


Nightmares in the Shadows

by Team_Alpha_Wolf_Squadron



Series: He loves me... [3]
Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, DCU
Genre: M/M, incubus
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-26
Updated: 2018-04-09
Packaged: 2019-03-22 12:57:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 16
Words: 78,668
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13764672
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Team_Alpha_Wolf_Squadron/pseuds/Team_Alpha_Wolf_Squadron
Summary: Father Todd's just been given the challenge of a lifetime when he comes into contact with a demon.Prequel to 'What Lurks in the Dark' and 'Aftershocks'Don't have to read the first ones if you don't want





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Again, from my tablet and all spelling and grammar mistakes should be powered through if you're able until I can clean this up.

Jason screamed, the dirt falling heavy on his face. He just needed someone to hear him. Anyone. He clawed his way up, always up. The air was thinning, he couldn't breathe. There was something in it, swallowing down his throat. He couldn't scream. No one would hear him. He was gonna die. He was-

Air came quickly, the darkness around him lighting slightly to show familiar shapes. Jason groaned, his head falling to his knees.

This wasn't the first nightmare he'd had in his life, but by God it was the worst. Everytime it came he thought he would be better this time around, that he would handle it better. Yet, here he was, again and again, crying into the darkness.

It took a while for him to get his breath, the tears not helping much. When he did, he knew sleep wouldn't be coming to him again tonight.

He got up, wiping his face as he started on the stairs. More than once he'd fell after a hard night. With no shoes and Jason sometimes spilling something on his way up, the stone steps could be a dangerous place.

Thankfully, tonight, they had mercy on him, and he made it to the bottom without any stumble or fall. He wiped his face again, making sure the tears had stopped falling as he walked into the church.

Since nights like this were common in his life he had ways to help him through the darkness until sun up. The toys at the back were never picked up. Never. It was at once both endearing and frustrating to a man who enjoyed things to be in place. The train was always the first, Maria loving to make it choo choo in the pews. He found it on one of the benches, picking it up for Maria to find on Wednesday. The hula hoop was next, then the dolls and the bear. The cowboy hat was the last thing he could pick up on his first go, Jason wondering if it would be best to just give Colin the hat. He went for it every time he came, and prying it away from his hands was always a challenge for the sisters. It wasn't like Jason couldn't simply get another one, but the sisters insisted that everything needed to remain in the church to stay fair. If Jason caved to one he'd have to cave to them all. Not a bad idea really, and for kids who had nothing he would willingly give up a few trinkets to make them happy. 

Still, rules were rules, so Jason put the hat with the others in the toy boxes and went to get the rest.

It was easy work but long. The toys were scattered all over, and it was like an extended game of Where's Wally trying to find them all. He was on all fours looking for a stuffed cat he knew had to be around here somewhere when he heard someone. 

It wasn't uncommon for people to wander in. This was a church, it was open at all times. It was one of the reasons Jason couldn't come in here crying. His parishioners came in to be comforted. They wanted to believe a priest had no issues of his own, that they were there to be a part of the furniture, one who could absolve them of their sins.

Jason busied himself for a while longer, knowing now that the trick to talking to people were letting them come to him. He didn't hide his presence, making as much noise as needed in the back.

The man, since Jason could hear the deep notes from back here, seemed to be upset. Again, normal for someone coming in here. Especially at this time of night. Usually it was the homeless that came in at this time, but when people did come in, those who had homes and families, it was never because they just fancied a chat. 

"Please," Jason heard, a hiccup breaking between the mans words. "Please. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

Forgiveness. One of the trickier parts of Jason's job. By day, it was simple to say God forgave people. When people came to confession they wanted that repeated sermon of forgiveness. By night however, these people were truly looking for forgiveness from someome, and more often than not Jason's words would come to bite him on the ass. When he'd first become a priest, he'd handled a midnight seeker with the usual spiel of God forgives all and if he did the right thing everything would turn out alright. Then, a week later, Jason was accosted, almost stabbed because his advice had lost the man everything.

That wasn't the only time, nor was Jason certain he was better at this whole thing now than he was back then. But he was more cautious. Enough that he wouldn't approach someone unless they wanted it. 

Jason walked the pews, again, making his presence known. The man didn't seem to cae. He was bent over the front pew, his hands apart, like they wanted to cross but simply couldn't. 

"I just wanna come home," the guy sobbed, more pleas slipping through his lips.

At first glance, even without seeing his face, Jason got a sense of unease. He wasn't dressed like someone off the streets, in fact, he looked like he'd just rolled out of bed. The shirt he had on was two times too big, the boxers too, both items practically slipping off the man to show pale skin beneath.

Jason quickened to the front, banishing thoughts that were better left buried as he started on the alter. There wasn't much to do up here. He always kept this part of the church fairly clean. Really, he was using it as much to hide as he was to make himself seen.

Jason had moved on to sitting behind the stone altar by the time he heard a throat clearing. Surprisingly, when he stood, the guy had moved from his seat in the aisle to stand opposite him. Jason almost ran there and then, self preservation wanting to kick in. Yet there was something about this man that made him stay.

He was handsome up close. Unrealistically handsome. He had to be upper class Jason thought, looking at the arms that didn't fill his shit. He was fit, but not to the extreme whoevers clothes he was wearing, and since Jason couldn't see any money or bruises the guy couldn't have been a prostitute.

"Can I help you?" His voice came out even, a feat he really didn't know how he managed because even beneath all that beauty there was still that feeling of something off about this guy. Something more than the fact he was at a church in the middle of the night crying his eyes out that was.

"You can talk to Him, right? He listens to you," the guy insisted, almost frantic as he leant over the stone between them to be heard.

Jason didn't have to ask who He was. He was a priest after all, he could hear the capitals when they were spoken. "Well, actually, it doesn't work like what I mean is that it is not as simple as a conversation. My job is merely to spread His word around, not to talk to him." 

"But he listens to you," the guy repeated, his eyes oddly visible in the dim church lighting. "He has to. How else are you supposed to do your job." 

Jason tread very carefully here, knowing from experience that he shouldn't fall into some of these traps the guy was laying out. He looked like he wanted someone to blame, it would just be Jason's luck if the guy ended up turning on him. "Like I said, I merely spread his word around. I live by it myself and hope that by doing so those in my care can achieve absolution should they ask for it." He took another look at the guy, the strong legs he'd spied befor hiding just out of view. Jason could probably outrun him. Maybe. He'd give it a good go if it came down to it. "Is that why you're here? For absolution?"

The guy's fingers clenched on the hard stone. "He listens to you," he was starting to sound like one of the people Jason should be calling the cops on. "He has to." Those blue eyes seemed to light up more, "You need to talk to him. You need to tell him I'm sorry. He's not- you just have to tell him."

Jason turned slightly, the door to his rooms only a short sprint away. "I'm sorry but it doesn't work that way. You must be the one to ask for forgiveness, not me. I have no-" 

"Don't you think I've tried!" The guy slammed his hand down, the stone giving a sickening creak. Something it definitely shouldn't have even if the guy was a body builder. "What do you think I've been doing. He won't talk to me. He won't listen. You're the only one who can."

Jason shook his head, whatever feeling had urged him to stay before long gone now. "I'm sorry, but I've told you-"

The guy hissed, his eyes turning to pure fire. Jason ran. He ran faster than he ever had in his adult life. He didn't stop running even as he stumbled up his stone steps, not until he slammed the door and had the cops on the phone. Yes it was Gotham and they were next to useless, but they were other people. Other people who would actually take note if he was murdered while on the phone to them.

The guy on the other end must have thought him crazy. They listened, sure, but Jason bet anything the next time they came to the church they would be hissing about the mad priest behind their hands.

Night after was hard. Jason didn't move an inch from the door barricading himself in until daylight broke. He couldn't. He'd never been so terrified before in his life, and Jason had plenty to be terrified of over the years.

He didn't know what was different. Whether it was the guy or just the feeling Jason got from him. Either way, when Jason went back down to start on his day to day life, he kept a wary eye out for that man. 

When he woke up that night from another dream, Jason kept to his rooms. When he did services and confessions, Jason looked for that man. It got to the point where he was wandering the streets looking in every face he passed for a glimmer of firery blue eyes. 

Of course, as with every fear, it lessened over time. When Jason saw nor hide or hair of him again his brain did that thing it always did and tried to make the whole situation less terrifying than it had been. The guy didn't really have fire in his eyes he convinced himself. If he did, he was probably a meta from one of the other cities, and if that were true then the Bat had probably chased him out. The vibe Jason got too was explained away. Jason had woke up from a bad dream, he was on edge, worse, he was tired and well versed with late night visitors. The emotions he felt at this man were probably wrongly placed. He hadn't seemed dangerous after all, and when Jason ran the guy had let him go. He was just another desperate man looking for answers who Jason had projected his fear onto. That was all.

The explanation worked its magic, and within another week, Jason was back to his old self. He even started roaming the church after hours again. Everything was okay.

"I'm sorry Colin," he said, prying the cowboy hat out of the kids grasp. "You know the rules." 

"I guess." The cowboy hat came more easily now, Colin giving it one last longing look before tottering back over to the sister.

Jason followed, leaving the hat behind before he could try and slip the kid it on his way out. The sister met him half way, the two of them discussing another play date at the church that same week. "I know this is a bother father, but the leak is getting pretty bad. If we don't get any money soon we're going to have to consider closing that wing." 

Jason knew. He'd seen himself how bad it was. But Gotham didn't care about its orphans. It never had. These kids in the sisters care were lucky they had someone watching out for them because the others, the ones Jason had been a crowd of growing up, they were left to rot. He could still remember now a few of his pals over the years being carted off after dying on the streers. The only reason there they had been removed was because the smell was inconveniencing people around them. If they didn't care enough to pick up the bodies that didn't cause a stench, there was no way in hell these kids were getting a new roof.

"If it comes to that, you know I will offer the church to you. We don't have rooms, and I'm afraid it's rather cold, but any shelter is better than none." It was something he'd offered before, only it looked now like it might become a reality. Not that Jason minded. It was his idea in the first place to bring the kids around every week for a picnic lunch and play in the church.

 "I don't know what we would do without you."

The kids left, Jason waving them off from the steps. He watched until they blended with the fog before turning to clean the rest of the toys away before evening service.

He dumped the dolls and bears in their box, turning to get the train, only to watch it fall in neatly with the rest. Jason felt that earlier fear return when he came eye to eye with familiar blue eyes.

"That was sweet," the guy said. The same one from that night. The one that was still in his oversized clothes."I honestly didn't think anyone in this city possessed that trait anymore."

"Thank you," Jason choked out, remembering what he'd told himself. This guy didn't look dangerous, there wasn't a weapon on him. He wasn't upset either, not like the other night. Yet Jason still wanted to run, some instinct inside of him telling him this picture before him was wrong. He fought it back, remembering that logic trumped fear every time as he started back to get the straggling toys.

The man joined him, and pretty soon everything was back in its box, Jason still breathing as well. The guy dusted his hands off, watching Jason out the corner of his eye.

Jason cleared his throat remembering the alter he had to set up for later. "I'd better..." 

The guy nodded, letting Jason get a few paces away before saying, "I wanted to apologise. For the other night that is. You kinda ran and I know it was maybe because of me." 

"Oh." How was it this man could look both sheepish and terrifying at the same time? It was like being in the presence of the Bat, something Jason had only got the pleasure of doing twice. "Yes. Well, I had a bad night myself. I understand that's not a good reason, but, I'm starting to believe no matter who walked in that door that night I would have ran from." A lie, but this man didn't need to know that. 

"Good," the guy smiled, something that was meant to be nice but on him, Jason didn't know. "Look, that night, I know I might have come on a little strong, but I did come here for a reason. I was hoping you might be able to help me talk to heaven." 

Jason took another look at his undress. "Are you in some kind of turmoil? Someone close to you passed?" It occurred to him later these questions were ones he was taught not to ask. He was meant to wait for them to come to him, yet, this man, there was something that piqued Jason's curiosity.

"No. Well, maybe the first one a little. Does it matter?"

"Not to me. But, if I have a better idea who you're seeking, a relative, angel, God, I may be able to advise you better."

"Honestly?" The guy asked, "Anyone. I just- I need to talk to them."

Jason nodded, beginning to understand a bit more of maybe not this guys aura but his attitude and dress. They often got people in the church who were seeking the other side, mostly for desperate proof there was something out there. They were often not in their right minds or distant, some so much that functioning daily, like dressing or remembering their manners, were often a challenge. 

Jason could understand. Once upon a time he had been the same. "Okay."

"You can help?" The guy asked.

"I can try. At the very least, I can help you lead your life in the direction of God. Maybe through that you can get your answers."

The guy beamed, looking like he would rush Jason before thinking better of it, his arms falling in favour for a wave and thanks. "You won't regret it Jason," he said before running out of the church. 

Jason, for his part, just wondered if he could handle helping this man. These cases were hard, and the fact Jason felt on edge every moment around the man wouldn't help matters. This was going to be difficult, made even more so when Jason spent the rest of the evening going over their last two conversations, wondering through it all when he had told the guy his name. 

The man came by on a week night. Somehow he had picked the night where Jason had nothing to do. No orphans to see to, no homeless to welcome in. Even his sermons were done for Sunday. It was just him, in his rooms, reading, when a knock came down from the church.

Strangely, and a bit unnervingly now Jason was lingering on it, the guy hadn't changed out of his oversized clothes. It wasn't like they were dirty either, the guy keeping them as pristine as they had been the first night they'd met. Yet, Jason was starting to worry. Twice in a matter of weeks was alright, the guy could have just come back coincidentally wearing the same clothes as he had the first night. But three times, and this time within the span of a week, there was something either really wrong with this guy's home life or he really was too distant to be productive in his life. 

"Hope you're not busy," the guy said, that small, welcoming smile on his face. The one that made Jason's skin crawl. 

"No, not at all." He stepped out, leaving his door unlocked in case of another hasty exit. "Why don't we take a seat on one of the benches." Since there was no way he was inviting the guy in. He'd made that mistake before too.

The guy went with no argument, sitting himself, almost nervously, next to Jason, like he didn't know if he was about to be kicked out at any moment. Not an uncommon reaction sadly. Jason let the man get comfortable before starting.

Talk, as it turned out, was a difficult thing to get out of this man. He was guarded, much more than Jason had expected from someone seeking answers from him. It was tough to work with, and eventually Jason just had to give up on trying to pin point what exactly the guy was hoping to get out of this session and turn to generalising him. He laid out the common ways the man could change his life, help the poor, the unfortunate, even every day people on the street. "God wants us to help each other." 

To which the guy next to him snorted. "Doubtful."

"Excuse me?" 

The guy bit his lip, muttering, "Nothing, continue please."

 Jason didn't for a moment. It wouldn't be the first time someone was making a mockery out of him. He'd had a few come in here, pretending they were seeking help, only to tell him he was wrong and walk out. This was Gotham after all, faith was always hard to maintain in the face of all this evil present. Yet, the guy next to him didn't start on a spiel, so Jason went on to other ideas. "If you pray, he might not answer, but there is always the chance he will. It might not be the direct line of contact you are hoping for, but any response is better than none."

 To that the guy's face twisted. "What if I know He won't talk to me? What if I'm looking for a way around that? Some way for Him to get my message without purposefully ignoring me. Is there any way like that?"

 Jason thought again to the night they met, the way the guy had been desperate for Jason to be the one to help him, to pray for him. "I suppose. However, if God is ignoring you, it's probably for a reason. He always has a plan, and, maybe, at this time in your life, he needs you to be independent from him."

"But-" The man sighed, his hands clenching again where he sat. "You know what, never mind."

"No, speak your mind," Jason encouraged.

The guy sighed again, seeming to be debating with himself before saying, "But what if being independent from Him meant you had to do something bad? What if, in His great plan, He was forcing someone to commit evil and they didn't want to?" 

Jason felt his throat tighten, his feet steady on the floor beneath him, ready to spring up if needed. "Have you done evil?"

The guy hesitated a moment before his head nodded slightly.

Jason took a breath. This wasn't the first time he'd heard someone confess something bad to him. Hell, he had mob bosses coming in every Sunday and Wednesday for confession. But, usually, there was a screen in the way, or Jason had his phone somewhere near him ready to phone the police if needed. This was too exposed, and so much more monumentally tricky than Jason first anticipated. "Are you still committing evil?"

The guy nodded again. "But I don't want to," he tacked on.

"Then don't," Jason said. "It is so easy to give into the bad in this world. You must remember that we were given free will, and with this a choice to turn away from the road to damnation. God does not turn his back on us, and he hasn't you. Perhaps this silence you are experiencing is merely God waiting for you to change your life to the right path."

"So, you're saying," The guy worked out, "That, if I stop, he'll listen?"

Jason nodded, amending what he thought earlier. This might actually prove to be an easy case. "Also set right the wrongs you have done. Confess your sins and await judgement, whether it be from myself, the authorities or even your peers. I believe, that once you do, things will start looking up for you."

There was that smile again, only, this time, Jason wasn't as on edge as he had been before. There was something more sincere about it. "Thank you."

Jason did the usual after that, he gave the man the church times, the services, and even the times he would take confessions. He gave the usual 'I'll always be here if you need me' talk before leaving the guy alone with his thoughts.

He collapsed behind his door, sinking to the floor. That had took more out of him than he'd thought. But, hopefully, with his advice and the good nature it was received with the guy would be out of Jason's hair and into the authorities by the morning. Although, he thought, later, as he was trying to get back into his book, it was strange that Jason had automatically lumped the man in with the mobsters and murderers of this city. He didn't think anywhere in the guys words that he had mentioned murdering or maiming someone. He hadn't even confessed to a simple bar fight, which nearly everyone in Gotham had been in once. He'd only agreed that he'd done evil, and evil, to everyone, had a different meaning. He knew to some people simply ignoring someone or purposefully being mean to them was considered evil. To himself, yeah, he naturally associated it with the scourge of the earth, but that was just because he'd been brought up in a bad neighbourhood. For all Jason knew, the guy, with his well maintained body and nice looks, could have simply been meaning the more tame side of bad. He looked college age, not that much older than Jason really, so there was every chance he was merely two timing his girlfriend. It would certainly explain the clothes if the guy was having a crisis in the middle of his deceitful nights.

He chalked it down to the vibe he got off the guy. That and Jason always liked to assume the worst. It was a survival instinct at this point. If he assumed the worst then he could never be surprised. 

The worst, as it turned out, was Jason coming down from his rooms one Tuesday morning and finding the man talking to Colin. Jason scurried over, heading to the sister first in some hopes she could pry Colin away without making a scene. Yet, when he discreetly told her there was an indecent grown man talking to one of her charges, the sister merely looked over at the man and blushed.

"Dick? No, he's a sweetheart. He's been helping out at the orphanage these past few days. And he always brings his little brother too. Oh where is he?" The two of them looked around until Jason spotted the odd child out. "Damian sweetie, not the candles." 

Damian, aptly named, was perched on top of the alter. He seemed to have a lighter of some sort, the candles Jason used for mass flickering on and off like light bulbs as the kid watched. The sister pried him off as Jason wrapped his head around the fact this guy, Dick, had a family. That he was in fact normal and not in custody right now. Okay. 

"Damian, those aren't to play with. Fire is dangerous, and even from a candle it can cause some harm. You understand?"

 The kid tutted, fleeing from the sister's grasp to snuggle his way onto Dick's lap. "How old is he?" Jason asked. He couldn't be more than ten, and even at ten he was rather small for his age. His face didn't look like it had even heard the word puberty yet.

"Dick said he was nine. Poor thing doesn't socialise much. Dick thought it was a good idea to bring him around, shoot two birds with one stone while he fixed our roof."

"He what?" Now that he thought about it the sister hadn't called to schedule another appointment at the church that week. Not like she had previously.

"I know," the sister gushed, like her vow of chastity meant nothing when it came to Dick. "I admit, I was sceptical too. But then he said you had sent him, and he actually is rather handy with tools. It feels like only overnight he had the darn thing fixed and better than ever." 

"Really?" So Dick had said Jason had sent him. He had mixed feelings about that. On the one hand, he was overjoyed the orphanage had a new roof. Really. They didn't deserve the cold wet nights they'd been having. But on the other, using his name had granted Dick passage. If he had been a gunman or worse then Jason's name had literally just gave them free passage. "Listen sister, in future, if someone tells you I sent them, could you phone me before you let them in. This is Gotham after all."

"Oh of course," she agreed, before turning her attention back on Dick. Looking at her, Jason would have bet anything Dick could have been a gunman, announced his intentions and still she would have let him in. It was like a spell had been cast over her. 

One Jason was adamant he wasn't going to fall for.

He kept an eye on Dick as well as he could through the afternoon. By that Jason meant when he wasn't grabbing Damian down from scaling the walls or destroying the crosses, or even treating a burn he somehow got on his hands he was keeping an eye on Dick. The man seemed to be harmless enough. In fact, the kids damn well loved him. He sat through a tea party when Sophia asked, played trains with Martin, he even wrangled Damian off Jason to play cowboys with Colin, and if the magic wasn't enough on these kids on his little brother it wad like he was a completely different person. Damian seemed to calm down when Dick paid attention to him. He was like a duckling, following his big brother around on adventures with the other kids, and while Jason had said he wasn't going to fall for Dick's spell, the man damn well didn't make it easy.

Five came with a picnic Jason had made himself. He had opted for spaghetti tonight, knowing it was easy to make in bulk and almost every kid liked it. They sat themselves on the worn benches, Jason ignoring the sticky hands leaving their usual prints as he doled out seconds to those who wanted it. Almost everyone did, save Dick and Damian who had opted out of eating altogether.

"It'll leave more for the kids," Dick said, that false smile back on his face.

 Jason hadn't argued like he usually would.

 After dinner, Jason started on clean up as the sister went into her sermon for the day. Since the kids could never make it on a Sunday, they had come up with an alternate day, and while the kids really couldn't care less, Jason just liked to have them around a while longer. He liked when they were here, it made the place less solemn, less big.

 All too soon however, they were putting their coats on and leaving their toys behind. Jason was pleased to note Dick and Damian gathering with them, Dick holding Damian hostage as the kid noticed the holy water.

 "I'll see you next week," Jason waved, watching as, one by one, the kids filtered out. Colin gave him a toothy grin, telling Jason to keep the cowboy hat safe as he was ushered out the doors.

 In under a minute, they were all gone, Dick too who had seemed to vanish when Jason wasn't looking. He didn't dwell on it too much, he had other things to do after all. Like look up how to get sauce out of green velvet.

 Yet, if Jason thought he could try and forget about Dick at all he was sadly mistaken. With the kids, Jason could accept Dick may have a reason for sticking around. He might have grown attached to them, or Damian could have made a friend and Dick needed to supervise. Any of those reasons made sense for why Dick would still come with the kids. They did not help Jason whatsoever when he tried to figure out why Dick was starting to appear elsewhere.

 The soup kitchen Jason volunteered at, Dick was there. When he was passing out blankets to the homeless, Dick was there. When the kids came around, when Jason had mass, when he went freaking grocery shopping Dick was freaking there and Jason would be lying if he said he wasn't at least a little afraid.

 The thing was,, it wasn't like Dick was doing anything bad at any of these places. In fact, he was helping. Within a week, Jason was getting glowing compliments from everyone that had come into contact with Dick on his generosity or good nature. Even at the supermarket they were telling him how nice Dick had been when he helped a woman up from a fall. It was like he was a freaking guardian angel. One that had made it his mission to stalk Jason. Or that's what it felt like.

 But that wasn't the worst bit. See, the compliments, the help, Jason could understand all that. Hell, even the fact the guy never seemed to change but no one but Jason found it weird he could understand, or at least make excuses. No, the worst thing that came from all of this was the fact that Jason couldn't stop feeling like he was being played. Dick could be Mother Theresa and Jason would still feel wrong around him, like even the notion of him being kind went against the natural order of the world and it was driving him insane.

 He wanted to believe. He wanted to hope that what he was seeing was real. Gotham could use another guy like that. But in the end, he just couldn't.

 It was a Saturday when things went from unnerving to just plain wrong.

 Jason woke in his bed with a jolt, his hands clenching the sheets, eyes searching the room as his mind shook off the last of his dream. His breath came in quick as he sat, surprised to see sunlight instead of the usual shadows his brain normally woke to,

 It took a while for his body to calm, and when it did, Jason headed straight for the shower. He threw his clothes towards the hamper with a hint of fear, jumping in the water quickly like it could wipe away the last of his night.

He couldn't believe that had happened, his hands still shaking as he reached for the shampoo. It had been a while since he'd had a dream like that. Especially one with such, graphic content. Years really. In fact, he couldn't actually think of a time where he had a wet dream of someone. It was just something he didn't think his brain could do.

When he had been younger there had been no one that had piqued his interest. When he was younger there were too many things putting him off having an interest in someone. Then there had been... that. Afterwards, since puberty had been so easy on his mind he hadn't had a seconds thought about his vow of chastity. Yet, here he was, standing beneath a shower head draining the last of his cum away after a night dreaming of Dick. Both man and member.

It hadn't been romantic. Far from it actually. The dream itself had merely been a mounting of frustration Jason eventually let out by fucking the man into leaving him alone. He supposed it spoke more of his childhood that the immediate response his brain had with frustration was sex. 

It kind of surprised him when he realised he didn't actually feel guilty about having the dream. He knew priests that would lock themselves up for days if they had even one lustful thought. Jason wasn't like that. Like he'd said, the only reason he took the oath was because he didn't think he would actually have this response to anyone. Now that it had however, Jason wasn't upset with his body. It was just something that happened to everyone. 

No, what he was pissed at was the fact that because of this dream Dick was on his mind all day. As if Jason didn't have enough to worry about around the man, now he was going to have to check his body in case an involuntary action gave Dick the wrong idea.

He didn't want to deal with this.

So much so that Jason called in absent to the soup kitchen on Monday. Dick had been there Sunday, sitting like some kind of out of place angel listening to Jason's every word. No one had spared him a second glance. Not one. No one noticed the fact that he was half dressed sitting between them. No one noticed those hunters eyes, or the smile that was just that side of wrong, that side of insincere on his face. No one cared but Jason, and on Monday when he found himself under the cold spray of his shower again he just couldn't face another evening spent looking at Dick. So he'd played hooky.

It was wrong of him, he knew that, but to pay penance for his absence he spent his evening instead going around Crime Alley to inquire about baptisms. He was shut down just as many times as he thought he would be, but eventually there were one or two women of the night who remembered him enough to take his offer seriously. Jason counted the wins when he got them gladly, and walked home with a sense of purpose instead of defeat.

The reprieve, short as it was, also allowed Jason to get his head back in gear. Jason's mission here wasn't to guard or keep an eye on Dick. He was here to serve the people and help them on their way. So, when the children came on Tuesday, Dick and naughty Damian too, Jason was nothing but sunny smiles towards them. 

He let Dick and the good sister keep an eye on Damian. Jason had spent far too many weeks simply watching, and he was tired of it. So he sat in on Mr Bear's grand adventure to the top of the church pews, his role as barbie sidekick taken very seriously as they tackled the harsh trials that stood in their way.

He felt Dick's presence before the man cleared his throat, turning to meet blue eyes that seemed considerably brighter than they had a few weeks back. "You mind if I steal Father Todd Matt? I'll give him back, I swear."

Matt took a sorrowful look at the distance they had almost covered before Mr Bear was lowered. "I guess." 

Dick didn't wait for anything more, grabbing Jason by the arm and hauling him a good three feet away from any child, Damian included who Jason could see eyeing the Holy water again. 

"Is something the matter Dick?" Jason asked, trying his hardest not to wrench himself away. This time for more than one reason, there was something else just oozing from Dick now. Something more than the usual wrongness. He smelled nice too, like something sweet, it was making Jason fight the urge to lean in and figure it out.

"You weren't at the soup kitchen last night." So, Dick had noticed his absence, Jason didn't know what to do with this. On the one hand it could mean he'd been right about the stalking. On the other, they did see each other every week, maybe Dick had just noticed in passing and worried.

"No, I thought it best not to attend."

Dick's eyes almost glowed, the blue captivating, keeping Jason hostage. "Why? Did something happen? Was it-" me? Jason heard even as Dick continued with, "an emergency?"

"No, nothing like that." Not an emergency anyway. "I merely thought it time that I do the rounds in Crime Alley. Many of the working women there don't think the church will accept them because of their lifestyles. I like to remind them otherwise."

"Oh," Dick nodded to himself, "I guess, yeah, that makes sense. So, you do this often? Convert people? Does it, I don't know, tally up and give you some goodness points?"

"If you're implying I get a reward, you're sadly wrong. The church is here to help not to reap benefits. And as for your other question I try and see as many people as I can as often as I can. Whether they decide to seek out more guidance is their own choice. Just like it was yours."

"Right." Dick finally let him go, Jason noting the shaking as his hand fell.

He took another look at Dick. "Are you alright? You're looking a little..." He would have said pale if Dick was anywhere near it. As it was, Dick was looking just as well as he normally did, maybe even more so. But there was something different about this picture, more than just the track marks Jason was hoping to find. There was a manic edge to Dick today, one that been there in their last few encounters too now Jason thought about it. Not as bad as this, but the build had been there. 

As it was, Dick looked like he was two wrong words away from reaching out to Jason again. To do what remained a mystery.

"I'm fine," Dick said after a while, his mouth opening to say more just as a shout pierced the air. "Damian!' Dick was there in an instant. A literal instant. Jason had to question his sanity as he tried to remember a blackout between then and now as he ran over to the small boy.

Damian was seething, Dick hugging him close as he tried to get a look at the hand Damian was clutching to his chest.

"Dami," Dick warned.

The boy hissed, his voice almost reptilian ad Dick finally got his hand free to take a look.

"I'll get the first aid box," Jason said, the sight of Damiam's scorched hand following him to the bathroom. When he came out he expected to see Damian fighting again with Dick for his hand. Instead, Jason saw no sign of either brother. "Where did they go?"

 The sister blinked, like she too had just noticed their absence. Standing as she was by the doors she should have been the first to see them leave. Yet, "I don't know."

 "What do you mean you don't know. The kid's injured, what happened?"

 The sister wrung her hands Jason seeing the story she was making up to soothe herself before she said, "Well he must have taken Damian to the clinic. Yes, I'm sure he said he was going to. You know father, it's getting late."

 He let her make her excuses. He let her take the kids too. Lies as they were the sister knew nothing, and Jason couldn't exactly blame a person who knew nothing.

 He tidied up the kids mess sooner than he usually did. Really, the only perk of them going home before their usual time was the fact Jason got to retreat to his rooms earlier than he normally did.

 For extra free time in the evenings Jason didn't actually end up doing much. He puttered about for a while, lounging, catching up on TV, seeing if there were any good shows coming to Gotham and then pretty much went to bed. Nothing too big or extravagant like going off to try and find Dick and Damian.

 He probably should have. He really should have, but Jason was taking a step back from Dick he was trying to focus on himself instead of the man. So, Jason was trusting Dick to be able to take care of his little brother. It wasn't like he wasn't capable, Jason saw Dick care like any other older brother would when they were together. So, when Dick took off without warning Jason could only hope it was with good reason and Damian would be fine.

 He had to be.

 Jason drifted off into a fitful sleep waking, just before morning as frustrated as he had been last night and another tent in his sweats to prove it.

 He sighed, wondering if he could just ignore it. His body felt heavy as he turned on his front, sleep becoming more and more agreeable the longer he lay there. He shifted until there wasn't so much pressure on his pelvis, dozing lightly.

 He felt like he should have been asleep, his mind was certainly wanting to be body too, but some self preservation instinct he'd never grown out of telling him not to black out. His fingers twitched on the sheets as he tried to listen to what was wrong.

 He couldn't feel anything different, or smell something. He honestly couldn't hear anything wrong either until he took a concentrated breath. The exhale didn't line up with what he was hearing, there was a slight delay, one that carried on to the inhale.

There was someone in the room with him.

 Jason kept his body in motion, practiced calm taking over. He had to think about this, work it out. He listened, pin pointing the man, since the breaths were deeper than a womans, somewhere by the window. If Jason timed it right he could distract the guy with the pillow and barricade himself in the main chamber. One of the main things he'd learnt on the streets was that it took more time to run than it did to lock a door and grab a knife.

He readied himself, slowly reaching down to the quilt on his back. Only for the air to be knocked out of him as someone sat on his back.

 He didn't even try and keep calm, he had been sure there was just one. So, either the guy was some meta or Jason had miscounted. Either way, someone was on his back and Jason would be damned if he would let them do anything more.

He bucked, the body surprisingly staying on, but the jolt enough for Jason to get somewhat up. He aimed an elbow back, feeling it collide with the man yet no sound of pain was made, no recoil either, which left Jason nursing a stinging elbow as he reached back to try and tear this bastard off him.

 His efforts did nothing. Literally nothing, and after a few flails his arms were restrained in a grip he hadn't felt since he was fifteen and lower body pinned. He screamed, frustration echoing in the air as he knew no one would hear him, would even care that Jason was about to be harmed.

 He hated Gotham. He hated it.

 "God just make it quick," he prayed, remembering the last time, the agonizing hours of being beaten. He couldn't do that again. He'd sooner kill himself before he had to endure that again.

 The man over him finally showed signs of tiredness, his breathing quickening even as his grip tightened further. It was almost painful as a pointed rock had Jason worrying this night was going to head down another way.

 Jason struggled again. It was one thing to die, another to be raped. Both he'd experienced before and only one left him wanting the other the next day. He tried loosenig the mans grip, just for a moment. If he could get one good blow to his face then- "You're gonna want to stop squirming Jason. Trust me on that."

He did, if only because he recognised that voice. "Dick?" He'd knew something wasn't right with that man. If Jason had needed anymore proof here it was. But, at least Jason now had an in. Dick had seemed reasonable before, maybe Jason could talk him down. "Dick," he calmed his voice, "What are you doing? You gotta think about this. You came to me for guidance remember?"

 Dick's head fell to Jason's back, his hair surprisingly soft as it brushed over Jason's neck. God, this close that smell was unreal, he couldn't believe he hadn't smelled it before. Jason couldn't help sniffing, his body reacting to the adrenaline and confusion of the room the only way it knew how. There was a moan from Dick, the noise vibrating far too pleasantly for the situation on Jason's skin. Dick's hands tightened further, pressing Jason further into the sheets.

 "Dick, you're a good man. I know you don't want to do this. I told you, there's always a choice."

There was another rock, Jason hissing at the friction on his front. Dick shook above him.

"Dick, please. I don't want this."

 The shaking increased until Dick visibly wrenched himself from Jason. He didn't waste his opportunity, running from the bed to the door. He almost had it closed too until Jason spotted just what was still on his bed.

 It was Dick, that was clear, the man on his back, his body shaking as he clawed the sheets next to his head. He was still wearing his ill fitted boxers now hanging off his hips. His shirt however, was missing. Jason had been right about Dick having some muscle, he was like an adonis, his chest rippling under his skin. What Jason hadn't been right about, what he hadn't even guessed at, were the pair of black wings hanging over the bed.

 The prospect of Dick being a meta didn't even cross his mind. There was just no way, not with Dick. Those wings, black gorgeous and broken were too otherwordly to be alien or human.

 "Good God," Jason breathed, his feet steeping towards not away from Dick.

 "No," Dick warned, "Stay." For good measure he glared over at Jason, the eyes alone stopping Jason in his place. The fire he'd seen the night they met were only flickering candles compared to this. It hurt to look, Jason clutching his own eyes as Dick squeezed his shut.

 They were there for a while, long enough for Jason's eyes to recover to take in Dick again. He couldn't believe it, Jason was looking at an angel. An actual, honest to God angel.

 Elation filled him. The darkness that filled his mind when he thought about dying easing somewhat. He couldn't remember what had happened when he passed over. Try as he might, and Jason had tried, he came up with nothing. It had filled him with fear for years, enough to seek out God, to ask in the beginning if he could be allowed some answer to whether there was anything there. He hadn't got an answer then. He had one now.

He fell to his knees, half of the Father's prayer out of his mouth before he recalled his assumption.

He took another look at Dick, dread filling him as he slowly stood. Dick's eyes had faded, the man sat up now as whatever fit had taken him over slowly came to an end. Jason stepped back, wondering just where he'd put his bible.

Angels didn't burn when they touched holy water. Angels didn't break into a priests quaters to try and rape him. But there were creatures that did.

"Demon," Jason named.

 Dick looked up, his eyes back to their usual blue, although slightly more brighter than they had been yesterday. "Richard," Dick corrected. "I have a name, you may as well use it."

 "Richard," the demon flinched. "You realise with your name I can cast you out now."

 Dick snorted, "Doubtful. Do you even know how?"

 Which, he supposed Dick had a point with. The church had sects and within these sects were specific things people of the church focused on. Jason being just a general priest could only handle a confession or baptism. The process of an exorcism therefore is only known to an exorcist.

 "I can call someone up," Jason threatened, knowing that just because he didn't know how to do one didn't mean they were always put to the side. As soon as a priest declared an exorcism the nearest man available has to get on the scene as soon as they are able. No red tape, no nothing. If Jason called, someone would come.

Yet Dick didn't look too threatened with Jason's words. "Go ahead then."

 Jason didn't, if only because he knew Dick could stop him in moments if he saw Jason as a true threat. There was something else going on here. Something more to a freaking demon sitting on his bed.

 "So, Richard, what is this? I was your next name to corrupt? Another notch on your bedpost? A... recall?" Since, now he thought about it that wasn't such a far fetched idea. He'd always wondered why he had been allowed back. Perhaps he really had been a mistake by the universe, one it was trying to correct by sending Dick. If that were true, Jason didn't have much to look forward to in his afterlife. Demons didn't live in heaven after all.

 Yet, Dick didn't rush and grab him, instead, his hands clenched in the sheets, his eyes glowing brighter as he begged, "Don't talk about sex. Please."

 Jason could hazard a guess why. A demon, one scantily clad and with that aura of intrigue that begged Jason to bend over. Dick didn't look like he was hard, Jason wondered if he even had a cock at all. In scripture, angels were beings without genitals, whether demons were the same remained a mystery for the moment. But, Jason guessed, even if Dick did have a cock, it wasn't like he needed it. If he was what Jason suspected then Dick only needed Jason to find sexual release.

 His throat felt dry as he asked, "Demon?"

 Dick's head snapped up. "Don't call me that," he hissed, appearing before Jason in a blink, smaller than Jason sure, but his wings helped Dick where height didn't, making him an imposing figure to look at.

Jason stood his ground, "You didn't answer my question."

 The fire faded, Dick's blue eyes taking form again. "No." Dick's wings folded in, retreating back to Jason's bed. "I told you, I need your help Jason."

 "My help," he repeated. "My help for what?" He thought back to everything they had done in these past few weeks. They had done good yes, but who was to say that this wasn't part ot a larger plan. Dick had been in contact with some of the most vulnerable people in Gotham. Children, homeless people, the needy ad poor. They were some of the best for Dick to prey on because they had no one to miss them. Not in Gotham anyway.

 Dick didn't look like he shared Jason's fears. There were honest to God tears in his eyes as he said, "I want to go home."

 Jason started, his finger automatically going to the floor, "You mean...?"

 Dick hissed. "No. No!" He looked around like someone was going to jump out just for saying that. "Not there. Never there if I can help it."

 Okay, well, this didn't make sense. Or, it did but Jason didn't want to think about why just yet, he had another bone to pick with Dick. "You say you want my help and I wanted to believe you, I did even. But then you come here and try to- to-" he didn't know. He had an idea what Dick wanted to do but looking at him now Jason wasn't sure. He could have been killed just as easily as raped.

 "I didn't know what else to do." Dick clenched the sheets again. "I almost... tonight. When you told me to stop I knew it would be hard, but I didn't think it would be like this. I'm so-" he hissed, eyes flaring again. "I knew you would say no. They never do. I needed to hear it. I knew you would make me stop."

 When looking at Dick not as a demon but an addict, he could kind of see where Dick's line of thinking brought him. If Jason was the only one resisting him then Dick would need that reminder not to slip into old habits. He couldn't imagine what Dick was going through, but he'd seen first hand the consequences of it. Not sex itself, but addiction was addiction in any form.

 He took a breath. "You don't do that to me. You never do that to me!"

 Dick didn't agree. "I didn't know what you would do."

 "I'm a priest, you could have just lied and said you were on drugs and I would have let you stay. I would have stopped you without you having to scare the shit out of me. You know, I'm not even that pissed about the demon thing-"

 "I'm not a demon-"

"What I'm pissed at is that you broke in and scared the crap out of me without me knowing why. This is Gotham Dick! I thought I was going to die. I can't do that again." He let out the rest of his anger in one breath, calm entering again as he tried to figure this out. He had a demon in his room. One who was asking for his help. "What do you mean you're not a... wait, seriously?" He'd read about the fall, Dante was kind of hard to avoid when you joined the priesthood. It wasn't like Jason could trick himself into believing Dick was lying to him. Those wings, those beautiful otherworldly broken wings were proof that what was in front of him was a shamed angel. "So, when you say home, you mean?" He pointed up.

 Dick followed his finger, a twisted smile etching itself onto his face, "I just wanted them to listen. I thought, since they brought you back they would be keeping a close eye on you. Yet... nothing. Ignorant bastards."

 So much of what Dick had said to him was starting to click in Jason's mind. He had wanted Jason to pray, to be the man with his foot in the door, and when Jason couldn't Dick had done his best to emulate, to try and prove himself worthy of just being listened to.

 "I can't believe this. I mean, can you even go back?" He couldn't remember a case where a demon became an angel. He didn't think God's forgiveness could even extend to demons.

 Dick shrugged, "But, I figured just because it's never happened doesn't mean it can't." Which was good logic Jason supposed. Dick caught his eye, no pretence hiding him from Jason anymore, "You have to help me. Keep me straight. At least until they talk to me."

 Why me? Jason wanted to ask, there were thirteen other churches in Gotham, why Jason. But, Dick had already marked his scent so to speak, he'd laid down roots, made a start. If Jason sent him off he was pretty much telling Dick to start over, and starting over meant getting rid of Jason. "You don't attack me again."

 "I can't promise that," Dick warned. "Jason it's hard. But, so long as you say no I won't do anything. You just, have to trust me."

 Trusting a demon. What had his life come to? "Fine, then you don't bring Damian around anymore." Dick Jason could believe wanted to change, but Damian, that little ball of terror didn't look interested in the slightest at anything but destroying things.

Dick deliberated a moment before agreeing. "They wouldn't let him up anyway."

"So he is a demon too?" Jason had only guessed. 

Dick made a 'little bit' gesture. "He's like half. But his dad, yeah, it's probably best we don't incur his suspicions."

Jason didn't even ask. He didn't know how to ask. What did he do in this situation? He couldn't go back to sleep, Dick was there. He couldn't exactly go about his daily schedule, like, he had questions. Did demons even eat breakfast? Did Dick shower? Did he own any other clothes than the ones Jason was starting to suspect were his last victims?  


	2. Chapter 2

Jason thought now that he knew what was going on things would be easier. Maybe not for Dick, but Jason thought the weird feeling he got when he was around Dick, that offness, would lessen somewhat. It didn't. If anything, it got worse. Now Jason knew Dick was a demon he was constantly second guessing Dick's actions and intentions. He still hadn't ruled out the idea that Dick was playing him for some larger game. It was driving him crazy and didn't look like it was going to get better any time soon.

"Are you sure Damian can't come around?" Dick asked for the fourth week since Jason had found out.

"Yes. I don't want him murdering a child because he's bored."

Dick didn't even try and argue Damian would never. "But he misses Colin," Dick tried instead. "I think he really liked him."

Jason didn't even deem that with a response, and since Dick quietened down as well the matter was settled for another week.

The kids raced in as they usually did, diving for the toy boxes before remembering their manners and saying hello. The sister made a beeline for Dick as soon as she spotted him, Jason wondering again if he should remind her of her vows. He didn't, but Jason did stick around when the sister started making subtle hints for Jason to find something else to do. Dick had confessed more than once that he found children easy to deal with. There was something simple about them that he just didn't want to touch. Women on the other hand were a different story. They lusted, they had a dark path just waiting for them to go down. Men too. But Dick found with his looks it was much easier to corrupt women.

"They're muh more willing to admit their attraction," he'd said.

So Jason kept close, and when the sister finally went to do her rounds Dick was more than grateful to him. He sent Dick off to see to the food, giving the demon a littlw reprieve as Jason went to see the kids himself. By the time Dick came back Jason had three dolls sitting around him and Molly trying to wrap her tongue around the Spanish Jason was teaching her.

"I didn't know you spoke Spanish," Dick said, seating himself down. "The roast is almost done by the way."

"Good. And, I didn't exactly grow up in the best part of town." The thing about the worst part of the city was that it was also the cheapest. People who came to Gotham almost always needed a place to live, and since half of them were minorities or immigrants the only places they could afford were dingy apartments in Crime Alley. "I know a bit of Portuguese too. Came in handy when something needed to be fenced. Not many people like to do their bargaining in English if they can help it."

Dick grinned like he always did when he learnt more about Jason's past. It amused him to no end that he wasn't the only one trying to atone for their sins. Dick said this was just further proof they were meant to find each other.

The visitation from the orphanage went off without a hitch. They ate Jason's roast, Dick, once again, begging out but this time with Jason's help to come up with a feasible excuse for not eating. They managed to pry the toys from the kids without much hassle either, Dick using that aura he had to help Jason enamour the kids away. Pretty soon, Jason was washing up the dishes from the roast, Dick popping in every now and then with a gravy covered doll or bear to clean.

The peace was nice mainly because Dick had something to do during the day to distract him. But when night came-

"Dick no!" The demon was crouched on top of Jason, hips just shy of a body that was still fighting off the remnants of a dream. "I said no!" He kneed Dick when those glowing eyes got too close, pleased to see the distraction work.

Dick shuddered above him, "So hungry. Jason please." He kept begging, would be begging for a while. 

Jason kept strong, kept the blanket a barrier between them and said no when Dick needed him to. It took a while but Dick eventually fell to the side, curling with his back to Jason, those wings fluttering their inhumanly soft feathers acrosd Jason's chin.

"It's going to be fine Dick."

Dick didn't answer, but then, he never did.

They had the homeless to tend to the next day, Jason using Dick's strength, which he only learnt of recently, to carry more blankets than usual as they looked for those who needed it.

"I wish we had more money," Jason said on the way back.

"Here I thought churches were the richest buildings on Earth." The scorn was strong, Jason knowing Dick didn't have a high regard for humans. Humans who were supposedly in the service of God Dick had an even lower regard for. All except Jason. For some reason Dick liked to keep Jason in his own separate compartment. Jason just thought Dick was saying that so Jason wouldn't kick him out.

"It's actually more complicated than you think. The money we have stays with the bishops so they can train and send priests abroad. They give money sometimes to parishes in need too. Usually a church is actually pretty self sustainable, but since I'm here and not even on the higher ups radar, I have to rely on the good will of the people who come to my services." Which meant Jason was barely scraping by. 

"Poor you."

It was just lucky for Jason that this winter he had a demon that gave off heat like a furnace keeping him warm. Especially since the boiler broke down three days after the first snowfall.

Time passed, Jason slowly getting used to Dick's presence at his side. The demon proved himself surprisingly dedicated to his mission. He didn't complain when something changed last minute, like the time Jason had to send Dick on his own to the soup kitchen so he could perform last rites on an elderly man. He didn't question Jason when he told Dick they couldn't tell the police everything that was heard in confession. He abstained from feeding, breaking only once and even then it had been Jason he broke around. 

They prayed every night, Jason taking Dick into the confessionals, getting his deeds out into the open for God to judge. Dick repented, he worked, he did all he could yet at the end of six months they still had yet to hear from above.

Jason could tell Dick was losing faith. Their late night battles grew more intense as Dick spiralled. More often than not Jason had to witness his rooms being destroyed as Dick sought some kind of release from his hell. It all came to a head one night.

Jason was tossing and turning in bed, trying to get comfortable under Dick's sweltering heat. Gotham was in somewhat of a heatwave, which meant that when Jason went to bed, he no longer wanted another barrier between himself and blessed cool air. A blanket was the devil as far as Jason was concerned these days.

Dick was still reading beside him, something the demon did when Jason was trying to drift the night away. He'd already made it through half of Jason's meagre library and had contented himself these past few days reading Dantes Inferno.

The wing on top of him shifted, a broken bone brushing against Jason's neck. He was dying under here. "Can you please put your wings away?" Jason moaned.

There was a shift, then those soft feathers were gone, Jason basking in the little relief he had. He tried to get back to sleep, twisting agin until he had to sit up and shuck his shirt. The pants went after another five minutes, Jason whining into the room when still nothing alleviated this heat.

He went to the shower, cranking it as cold as it got and just standing there. 

He wasn't surprised when he looked to the door to find Dick there. He followed Jason sometimes, most often when Jason was naked or trying to walk off an erection. It was a compulsion, Jason understood. Dick was like a drug addict, he couldn't just ignore a substance if it was paraded in front of him. Especially since he was still going through withdrawal.

Yet, unlike the last few times when Jason had to punch Dick to get him off, the demon eventually drifted off. It was probably because Jason was too tired to even get hard right now. 

Jason dunked his head under the spray, sighing when thought actually came back to him. He was braving his toes being frozen when he heard it, a sort of creaking. When he turned, a familiar black darkness was impressed on the wall.

Dick did that sometimes when he couldn't be bothered to keep his form but still wanted to leer.

"You're not going to get past the fourth stanza if you keep spying on me."

He didn't expect a response so he dipped his toes, hissing at the coolness. 

The cold left, Jason swamped by shadowed arms as they pinned him to the shower wall.

"No," Jason choked out, one of those arms holding him by the throat. "Dick no. I don't want this. Stop!" The arms grew tighter, his feet slipping as his legs were forced apart. "Dick!"

Dick appeared in the doorway, Jason's frazzled brain wondering how Dick was managing this. There was a glow from Dick's eyes and then Jason was collapsing in the shower. He scrambled out, his knees bruising as he raced to his room. He glanced back, thinking to see Dick coming back to himself. Instead, he only saw Dick's wings, outspread and looming over a man Jason had never seen before. He made Jason stop in his place. He was handsome, way too handsome to be human, but there was something about him, something more believable than Dick's visage. He was also somewhat familiar, and it took the man scowling for Jason to figure out where.

Damian. This man and Damian had the same features, the same face structure, same eyes too, but where Damian's face was tan and angular this mans was pale and hard. Still, if Damian grew up half as handsome as this man the world was doomed.

"If this is your idea of an olive branch you have seriously misjudged the situation," Dick hissed.

"It's been months," the man said. "I thought he may have some hold over you." The mans tone demanded there be a good explanation if he was wrong.

"Well, he doesn't. And if he didn't know about our kind you may have just blown everything I've been working on."

The man narrowed his eyes, trying to peer around Dick's wings before settling on eyes that Jason didn't have to see to know were glowing. "I was concerned. You haven't been feeding."

Dick grumbled, Jason sensing the stall as well as the other man. "That's because I was working on him. Bruce! You've just ruined everything."

The demon, Bruce, arched an eyebrow, obviously unimpressed with Dick's words. "Dick, we both know you don't need eight months to get a priest on all fours."

"Well maybe I did with this one. Either way that is no reason for you to come up here and- and meddle. If this is because you can't be bothered with Damian then maybe you shouldn't have made him in the first place. You're his father Bruce, take some responsibility for him."

Looks like fatherhood was the same in all realms since Bruce dropped some of hostility for a more approachable look. "I do. I was just worried."

"Don't be. And don't come back here. I have things to do and you can't be part of all of them."

Bruce twisted his face, but Dick must have more authority than Jason thought since Bruce left after wrangling one promise from Dick to visit Damian at some point when he wasn't playing with his priest.

Jason sucked in a breath when Bruce was finally gone, feeling like he could finally breathe again. His legs were shaky when he stood on them, his neck burning, and from the look on Dick's face it was just as bad as it felt.

He didn't complain when Dick took him back to bed, dabbing a wet cloth on Jason's neck. What he did do was marvel at the fact Dick had not only sasaved him from being murdered, again, but had lied point blank to another demon that Jason got the feeling of was a pretty scary and powerful guy. One who had Dick worried if Jason was reading him right.

"Well, we can't have him sniffing around here again," Jason said.

"He won't," Dick promised. "He's stubborn but he listens to me. He'll keep his distance."

"And what happens when he sees you again and you still haven't fed? Is he going to attack me again?"

Dick's face twisted. All the answer Jason needed really.

"Wonderful." He let Dick dab him some more, thinking on this whole problem. "Look, this whole thing we have, it's not going to get better if you get worse. I can barely fend you off now."

Dick stilled, "No."

"Hear me out before you shoot me down," Jason bargained. "So, I've been thinking, maybe going cold turkey isn't the best solution for your problem. Maybe we need to wean you off, at least enough so when Bruce comes around I don't get mauled."

"No," Dick said again. "I am not going to attack someone. Not again. Last time-" Last time Dick had been inconsolable for weeks. The guilt had consumed him so much he spent it in either prayer or self pity. It had taken Jason telling Dick Colin was asking after him to come out of his slump.

"I know, but maybe we're not thinking about this properly. The whole rape thing, we can find a loophole around it. One that doesn't leave you comatose anyway." Jason thought through what he knew. "Okay, that whole marriage and men with men thing, I think it's total crap. Love is love, blah blah blah, the point is that I'm not going to condem you for laying with someone outside of marriage. Which means, in the forgiveness front, that won't be a problem. But the consent thing, that I do have a problem with and, I don't know, we could maybe find a woman or man, whoever is willing. That way, it's not rape."

"I'm still using them."

"Yeah, and they're probably using you too," Jason pointed out. "But, if you're worried about hurting someone then maybe try and control how much you take. Just take enough to tide you over and leave them able to function the next day."

Dick frowned, "I don't think that's how it works."

"Have you tried?"

Dick slowly shook his head.

"Okay then."

They went to work that morning looking for someone to take Dick's edge off. Jason could tell Dick wasn't too into the idea but, well, if it meant Jason could sleep one full night and wouldn't be killed by Bruce, he was willing to convince Dick to try it. They went from prostitutes to night clubs, Jason's skin itching the whole time. It wasn't all for Jason anyway, Dick needed this. The whole reason, Jason suspected, he was making no leeway with upstairs was because he was merely imitating Jason's example. Dick needed to take charge himself, do something good not because Jason said but because he thought it was right. To do that, Dick needed to be able to think, and right now, all Dick could think of was sex.

The lights were starting to hurt his eyes, the sweaty bodies everywhere not helping this heatwave at all. Dick slinked back over to him, still on edge and eyes too bright for this kind of enviroment.

"I don't think this is working," Dick said. "Can we just go? I'm like, four minutes away from turning this into an orgy."

Jason didn't really see the problem if they were all consenting, but if Dick wasn't then he didn't want to press the guy. He brought Dick back, Jason heading for the shower to wipe away so much sweat from his body. He didn't stay for long, Bruce had really shook him the night before.

When he got back, he wasn't surprised to see Dick cowering on his bed. Jason sat next to him, not bothering with clothes, it was just as hot tonight as it was the night before.

Jason took a breath. "Okay, here's what's going to happen. I'm going to... and, if you so happen to want to do what you do then go ahead. But, no touching, no encouraging, this is a solo mission and therefore I am not breaking my vows." Or giving in to the devil, he finished in his head.

Dick squinted at him, his eyes widening when Jason took himself in hand. He'd done this before, in the shower, before he'd died. Masturbating wasn't a foreign concept to him, nor doing it in front of someone. But Jason still found there was a small barrier there that prevented him from relaxing like someone else with a beautiful man in their bed would do in his place.

He closed his eyes, relaxed his hand as he went for pleasure instead of quickness. He circled his slit, putting pressure on it as his other hand went lower. He stroked along the root, his other hand pulling on his length. Bolts of pleasure went through his body, getting stronger and stronger the more Jason inched his hand down. He trailed lightly over his balls, rubbing slightly in circles to let his fingers accidentally slip every now and then undernearth them. It was on one of these accidental slips that he brushed against his hole, his whole body seizing as he came over his hand.

In an instant his cum was gone, Dick moaning next to him. Jason only had time to admire the bliss on Dick's face before he blacked out.

When he woke, he'd slept ten hours straight.

Jason meant it when he said he was keeping these feedings sparse. Dick got one every three weeks, the intervals long enough for him to actually find purpose before slipping back into his frenzy. Dick behaved at these feedings always. Not once in four months did Dick transgress any rules, and always afterwards he was there with an apology and breakfast for Jason's aching body.

The inbetween was surprising. Like Jason thought with room to think, Dick had more ideas to do good, actual good. He convinced some of the local schools, in the upper districts too, to allow Jason in to talk to the pupils. They had a few new families attending after that visit. Then there was the dog shelter, Dick insisting that humans weren't the only beings that needed to be cared for. Jason had enjoyed that one the most, spending the whole day being licked and cuddled by fuzzy beings. 

The latest had been a fundraiser for the church, to get more money to help the needy. Not only did Dick help raise money, he got volunteers to help Jason when he went on his rounds.

Dick had been especially proud of that fact, spending half the night preening while Jason tried to sleep.

In the morning, Jason hadn't been expecting Dick by the window. He was pristine, his wings loose behind him, yet there was something different, and when Jason asked, Dick started crying.

"I heard them," he laughed, "They spoke to me. They spoke to me Jason."

"Are you- are you serious?" He couldn't believe it. Yet Dick was telling the truth. 

They'd came to Dick not long after Jason had dropped off. It wasn't much, just a glimmer of feeling, a word of praise, but it was enough to tell Dick he was on the right path.

"I think if I keep going, they'll let me home."

"That's wonderful."

Dick's enthusiasm grew after that. The bursts of melancholy were fewer, Dick knowing now that he was being watched, judged and considered. Jason was happy for him, really, because it meant Dick hadn't lied to him. 

They were in confession the morning before Dick's idea to go to the upper district again when Jason heard of the crime Dick felt was one of the worst he'd ever done.

"It was just before I fell. We aren't supposed to go to Earth unless we have a job there. But, I couldn't help myself. God created this place and it felt cruel for us not to be able to visit. So I sneaked away and came to Gotham, actually."

Dick had went everywhere he could, in disguise of course, his wings safely tucked away. He'd visited the churches, Jason's in particular when Dick had seen homeless people using it as a shelter rather than a place of worship. He'd been rankled enough to cast them out. That had been just the beginning of his wrath. The more Dick stayed the more he saw of humanities failings. Prostitutes, crime lords, drugs, murderers, even adulterers. Dick had seen it all and when Jason looked it up later Dick's wrath had been huge.

"I ended up at Wayne manor, I was doing a round of all the rich and entitled." 

Dick had stole in, ready to condem this family for anything they did wrong. He scoured the manor for any skeletons, ending up in a nursery. There was a boy inside, no older than five. He was playing with his building blocks, so serious as piled up 'Wayne Enterprises.' 

But, then he'd caught sight of Dick, and instead of running off to scream stranger at his parents, like the other kids had when Dick had been around, the boy had just sat there and looked for a while. Eventually, the boy had went back to his blocks. "I like your wings," he said.

"You can see them?"

The boy had nodded, not looking up from building hid garage. The fact this mortal could see Dick's form had distracted him from his rage. Enough that Dick had snuck away from heaven seven more times just to see the boy.

"He shouldn't have been able to see me. Not the real me anyway. Even this you see is dulled down so you don't die on sight. But him, he could see everything. He must have been chosen for something."

He was visiting the boy when the others found out. They had seen the effects of Dick's rampage, and the fact he'd revealed himself to the boy. 

They had a trial at least, but from the way Dick described it he didn't have much in the way of defence. Eventually, they told him he was to be tested and pushed him out. His wings broke, and when he landed there was a hunger he'd never felt before.

"They made me into this. They didn't even warn me." He'd been so angry and Gotham had paid for that anger.

The only one who didn't was the boy. Dick went there for respite, to try and anchor himself to what he used to be. The boy didn't look at him any differently. He bandaged Dick's wings up, even brought him lemonade because he said it made him feel better when he was upset. He was kind when Dick needed him to be, so when the boy needed him, Dick did all he could to help. 

"But, I didn't know what I was doing and... you've met Bruce."

Jason stilled. "The demon?"

He saw Dick's head nod behind the screen. "I've been trying to keep an eye on him, help him, but he's not like me, he's not torn between a life he'd already had. Bruce got shot that night Jason, he died, and instead of letting him rest I tried to help and now... now there's Damian."

Jason couldn't say anything for a while. Feeding off people was one thing, actually turning someone into a demon. He didn't know if God could forgive that. But Jason could try, so he absolved Dick as much as was within his power, and when they got out, Dick looked like he had a weight off his shoulder.

They went to the upper districts, Jason surprised when someone actually came out to meet them rather than forgetting he was coming. He saw the woman linger on Dick, a coy smile gracing her face as she led them inside.

"Now, we were going to have an assembly for you, but the parents protested, so inseat we're having you speak to the older students during their free periods."

Aka, they didn't want Jason talking to the more influential students and foisted him off to teenagers who couldn't care less. Great. 

Still, an audience was an audience so Jason took what he could get.

They went to three different classes before Jason went to the one that spelled the beginning of their downfall. At the time, Jason didn't see anything wrong, it went just like any other of his preachings. Yet, that weekend, it was that class that spelled the new parishioners for Jason. 

"Jack Drake," the man introduced. It was after Sunday service, Jason lingering around as usual to speak to those that needed it. Today those people were the Drakes. "My wife Janet and my son Tim. It was his idea actually, that we come here today. I must say I see what he finds interesting about you. You certainly are... devoted."

Jason didn't think that was what Jack wanted to say, but since their presence was bulking his church out a bit more he kept his silence. "Well, I am pleased to hear the word of God touched at least someone when I visited."

Jack sneered slightly but he asked about confessional times so Jason didn't think it was all Tim that had them here.

The Drakes came to three more services, Jason spying Tim on his phone for all three before one of them lingered for confession.

"Poor boy," Jason said later. "I wonder if he knows. He probably does. Those kinds of people, they simply don't care about their kids."

Dick was lounging on Jason's bed, listening to it with one ear while he read through book twelve of Dante. "What do you care? You've heard worse."

"I know," which was true. He'd had to listen to violent depictions of death and mutilation after all. But rape had always struck close to home for him. "I guess I'm just worried what a guy like Jack will do with a kid like Tim. I mean, I guess he could be left out of it, they probably don't even talk to each other." Optimistic thinking. Better than the alternative, like Tim being a lure. Jason had done that a few times to know how much it weighed on a person.

Dick hummed, his distant eyes considering for a moment before the last good idea Jason would get out of him this month. "If you're so concerned why don't you talk to him. I mean, if he came here, he might be looking for help."

The Drake family came on Sunday, again, Janet this time deciding to stay for confession. Her crimes weren't half as bad as her husbands, but the sheer pride she had confessing her many partners to Jason didn't give her the high road for long.

When they were done, Jason felt like showering to get the taint off him. He followed Janet back to her waiting family, begging a word with Tim before they left.

The kid finally looked up from his phone, seeming to silently beg his parents not to let him go. They didn't see it, already talking to each other about their plans for Dubai.

He led Tim over to one of the front benches. Giving the boy some space Jason wondered where to begin. He couldn't exactly break Jacks confidence, no matter if he wanted to. "You know Tim, this place isn't just somewhere to hold mass. It's also a haven. If you ever feel like you have nowhere to turn, to talk to without judgement, this church will always be here for you."

The kid was smarter than he looked, seeming to read into Jason's words as he nodded. "Thank you."

"Also. If you're interested in, I don't know, extra credit or just helping out, we have a number of schemes through the week and after school for you where we help the community. Extra hands are always welcome."

Tim nodded again. "Is that all?"

He looked like he was still waiting to be told off. Jason could relate, so he sent Tim on his way.

He told Dick later how good his suggestion had been, the demon preening.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, here is the next chapter. It was long in writing because, well, stuff happened. But there is like mentions of rape in here, it's not explicit, but if you want to skip over that part just stop when you reach the *.  
> Hope you enjoy.

Tim took up Jason’s offer of helping out the Thursday two weeks from their talk.

He turned up, obviously just out of school, with his bag slung over one shoulder and a red face that said more than Tim probably wanted it to. Jason didn’t call him out on it. He even gave Tim a few minutes to see if he needed some time to get himself together.

As Tim hastily wiped his eyes, straightening from his slump in the corner of the church, Jason went over to greet him. “It’s good to see you, I was just telling Dick we’re going to have to make two trips with the supplies we got from the community. With you here, hopefully we can shorten it to one.”

Tim didn’t say anything back, just nodded and followed Jason over to where Dick was sorting through the cans and blankets.

The volunteers had died down after the first wave. Dick went back with Jason when he could to try and persuade them to return, but, like everyone they thought they had done their job the first time and left it to others to pick up the slack. Overall, tonight, there were seven left of the twenty they’d had. Jason split them into groups half carrying the sleeping bags and blankets while the others took the food.

“And remember, it’s always best to give them a demonstration on how to cook their food on the streets. They won’t think you’re patronizing you, trust me.” The others nodded, all of them knowing from experience now that they were likely to find a few cans on their round of people who couldn’t figure out either how to open them or cook them. It was a problem bigger than people thought, one Jason was trying to rectify.

He kept Tim with himself and Dick on blankets. The other volunteers were older, strangers basically, and Jason knew the first time out was nerve wracking even with friends.

They moved out to the streets, Tim almost swallowed up by his pile. Dick and he weren’t faring much better, but, then, they weren’t struggling under their own weight either. Jason took pity on Tim when they came to their first customer, letting the kid get rid of some of his stuff before Jason handed his own out.

Tim didn’t talk at all the whole trip, which was a little unnerving. Especially when Dick ventured off on his own for a section. It wasn’t as if Jason didn’t try either. He asked things from school to extracurricular activities, but Tim just didn’t want to talk. He supposed it wasn’t exactly cool to talk to a priest, but something about the way Tim had come into the church tonight told him it was something else.

They finished at nine, Jason sending Tim off straight away in case his parents came looking. The kid went as silently as he came.

“I know I’m not supposed to contact the police unless it’s a murder, but, surely Jack’s situation calls for some kind of action. Even if I just tell them there’s something going on at that house.”

Dick hummed, neither agreeing nor disagreeing. He was in a rather distracted mood tonight, probably due to the fact he was almost ready for another feeding. Jason could see Dick tracking Jason’s moves carefully, like a lion waiting to pounce. He was honestly surprised Dick hadn’t by now, he always gave it a few tries before Jason caved in. As for now, Jason was using the lull to just talk about what was bothering him. It was oddly cathartic.

“But, again, I can’t do that without breaking my oath. Even just inferring a problem I have to have someone’s permission to do so.” He dropped the towel, flopping onto his bed and letting Dick blanket himself on top. “Maybe I can get Tim to give me permission. I’m sure, if I could just get him to talk to me I can help him.”

“You do that,” Dick purred, his fingers wandering over Jason’s chest.

He caught them before they went any further. “You know you’re feeding isn’t until tomorrow. Behave or I’ll kick you out of bed again.”

Dick grumbled, but the fire died down in his eyes. “Sometimes I wish you weren’t a priest. The sex would be fantastic.”

He levelled a glare at Dick, “Well, I am a priest, so knock those thoughts to the side demon.”

Dick grinned, shifting until he wasn’t so much suffocating as cuddling Jason.

The rest of the week passed, Jason sleeping all through Saturday after feeding Dick. When Sunday came he was refreshed but miserable as he delivered another sermon to his congregation. He could see before Jack even entered the confessional that it was his turn again this week to get some things off his chest. Just the way the man kept staring at him through communion told Jason that he was going to be taking a very long shower tonight.

Jack didn’t disappoint. By the time he was finished Jason wondered how on Earth he had so much free time to commit that much evil. He had to take a few minutes himself, long enough that when he removed himself from the booth the Drake family were already gone.

The rest of the day was spent with Jason circling the phone in his quaters. Eventually, it was Dick that came to his rescue, dragging Jason to the fridge to eat.

He couldn't concentrate on much even if he had left the phone. He burned himself twice, and by the third time just kept a bowl of cool water ready for the fourth. Dick ended up taking over there too, disappearing for a few minites before returning with take out. Good take out too, from the upper side of Gotham.

"I hope you didn't steal this," Jason said around a bite. 

"Is it stealing if they don't ask you to pay?"

Jason shrugged, figuring it wasn't. Quite frankly this wasn't the first time Dick had come home with food for him. Jason knew he didn't pay because as soon as they were in private Dick shucked all of the clothes Jason bought him in favour of some of Jason's boxers. He'd told Dick off more than once for going out without a wallet, or shoes for that matter, but since he hadn't been arrested or Jason called in to pay he'd pretty much toned down his rants to simple warnings.

Dick picked at a few of the dumpligs, the food turning black and mouldy under his fingers. "This kid's really bothering you isn't he?"

"Yeah." He was. It was a daily problem on his mind."I guess I just see a lot of myself in him."

"You were the son of a wealthy rapist?"

He chucked some rice at Dick for the tone. "No. But, my mom used to work the streets. My dad didn't really care. At that point we were just a place he put his head at night. But, believe it or not, being a prostitute is actually a hard job. Especially in Gotham. She had competition, and no reputation to get her started. No one wanted to let her join their business because she had a husband who they didn't want knocking on their door. It was hard, and eventually I got roped into it."

He hated those days. Right until the day his mom whammied him with that cocktail of drugs, promising he'd feel better afterwards, he'd hated working those streets.

"It makes you quiet. Like Tim. He doesn't want to make a fuss, he's barely there. He just wants to survive." 

"You seem pretty okay now," Dick pointed out.

"Because I got a new lease of life. But before... I wanna help him. I don't want him to end up like me with a needle in his arm because someone promised it would be better."

Dick frowned, Jason managing to get the rest of his food down his throat. "So that's what happened?" Dick eventually asked.

He didn't have to clarify what. "Overdose. Me and my mom. At least, I think it was an overdose. She might have laced it with something. She was pretty fed up near the end."

Dick mulled on that for a while. 

Jason could see what was bothering him. "I don't know," he said, "I don't know why they choose to bring me of all people back. Maybe I was a hero in another life. But, it happened, and I'm trying to do my best with what they've allowed me."

Dick frowned a bit more before a small smile graced his face. "I'm sure they have something special in store for you. If not, I'll make sure when I get home to find some way to repay you."

Jason chuckled at the pure sincerity Dick showed. "Thank you. But you know I don't want a reward. I just want to help."

"Then I will help you," Dick decided. "How about I keep an eye on Tim for you? I can make sure he gets to bed alright. That his father is nowhere to be seen. It would put your mind at rest, let you get back to being priestly and kind."

Jason jumped at the chance when Dick proposed it. Since Dick was a demon, he didn't have to be seen to be present. It brought some questions to mind about how much Dick spied on him without Jason's knowledge, but since it was being put to good use now he pushed those questions aside for later.

Jason sent Dick off right that next morning, neither of them having anything to do until the afternoon. Dick didn't leave long, a few hours maybe since Tim did have school, but just the report Dick gave of Tim being fine, if a bit tired, made Jason feel much better.

They busied the rest of their day with ease, Jason starting on his sermons while Dick filtered through the recipes in the kitchen for something he thought was kid friendly. When five came, Jason pulled on his sweats, gathering the list Dick made.

"You wanna come, or, do you think Tim will be back from school yet?" Jason asked.

"I'll come." Since Dick, recently fed Dick anyway, loved trailing after Jason at the grocery. Apparently he liked watching Jason putter about, shopping, after all, was a marvel to someone who had never had to do it before.

Jason took Dick to the good store, as he usually did when he was shopping for the kids. It was quick work finding everything when he had Dick helping. However, as was usual when Dick came with him they found themselves dawdling between the isles making up for the time they saved.

"I said no, put it back," Jason said.

This was the fourth item Dick had tried sneaking into the cart. Last time it had been a tray of donuts for the kids, which, yeah, if Jason hadn't known the nuns would give him the stink eye for he would have let Dick put in. But sugary cereal with so many bright colours Jason was saying no to.

"But it has a tiger on the front. Colin said he likes tigers."

"Dick," he took a breath, calming himself, "One, a bowl of that will have them jumping the walls. Two, there's not enough for all of them. And three, they get stuff like that for breakfast. Look, I'll see if I have enough to make some cupcakes, but cereal is out of the question."

Dick pouted, but the cereal was put back. Jason took one look at his empty wallet while he was gone, fingering the last two fives he was saving to add to the kids toy fund. He supposed they could last another month with the same old stuff. It's not like they were complaining, and Jason did make sure the toys they had were in good condition.

When Dick wandered back, he rattled off a list of ingredients, telling the demon he was giving baking lessons when they got home. Dick was the one who was asking for them so he damn well better help.

Of course Dick, sensing he was going to be made to help, ended up dashing off to see Tim before Jason had even unpacked the flour. He couldn't say he was particularly disheartened. Jason would rather go to Tim's anyday rather than have him help bake some cupcakes.

It was rather lonely as the hours went on and Dick still stayed away. Jason hadn't realised before how much he'd gotten used to having Dick around. He'd been a constant presence for so long that without him, Jason was rather lonely.

He ended up eating three of the thirty cupcakes he made, steering clear of his shower as he searched for Dick's latest book. 

He drifted off at some point, woken while it was still dark by Dick crashing on top of him. Jason's arms came up automatically, pushing the demon until there was a gap enough for Jason to wriggle in.

"Dick!" The demon fell back down, his arms pinning Jason's stomach in place as Dick's hands clawed the shirt keeping him from skin. "Dick no!" He hadn't seen Dick like this in a while. Not since Jason was five days late for a feeding anyway. "I said no!"

Dick stilled, his whole body pinning Jason's in place now. "Please." 

"I've fed you." Recently too. "You can abstain for a while longer." Jason didn't think he would have the strength to feed Dick again this week. Once was bad, twice in the same time frame... he didn't know if he could survive it. If anyone did. He'd never asked Dick before what happened to his victims. "I know you can."

Dick's hands clawed in Jason's shirt, the material bunching up enough for Dick to get at a scrap of skin. "I can't."

"Dick," he kept calm, he had to, if he didn't Dick would take advantage of him. "Just tell me what's going on. What's wrong?"

"Tim."

Jason's calm went out the window, "Is he okay? Dick what happened?" Images of Tim lying in his room or in a ditch somewhere, because his father had finished with him flashed in Jason's mind.

"He was," a high keen pushed itself out of Dick's throat. "Playing with himself. I couldn't-"

He had half a mind to hit Dick for scaring him like that. For a moment, the sheer relief that Tim was okay made Jason overlook the seriousness of what he was doing. It was only for a moment. Dick made sure of that by biting Jason gently on his stomach, the motion sending his skin tingling in a way it never had before.

He shied away, putting both hands on Dick's head, the pressure stopping Dick from doing it again. He could never truly knock Dick off, but the motion was enough to remind the demon that Jason didn't want this.

"Okay, here's what's going to happen. I can't feed you." He just couldn't. "But I know you don't need me to. You can stop yourself Dick. You've been able to before, and I know you can do it again."

Dick shook his head, but Jason kept encouraging him. He kept him still for as long as Dick needed.

Jason, really, should have accounted for this. Teenagers were teenagers and Tim whether he knew or not about his father, was bound to end up tossing off at some point or another. He should have told Dick to come back at the first sign. He should have maybe told Dick about the first signs. He should have done a lot of things he hadn't. 

It took until the early Tuesday afternoon for Dick to let him go. The hours had been hard. Jason was on guard the whole time, never relaxing since Dick's sex clouded mind latched onto that as submission. He couldn't read, he couldn't make conversation. All he could do was sit there and help Dick face his hunger.

When he did let go, it was with a warning to Jason not to strip off around him. Jason wholeheartedly agreed. More so since he didn't even bother to shower that morning either. Nothing that would set him off.

Jason set Dick menial tasks when the demon emerged from the bedroom. The kids would be coming soon, so he had Dick count the cupcakes, or the plates they needed. Numbers seemed to help. So much so Jason had Dick count the kids when they came in, and after that do a headcount every five minutes on the dot to make sure none of them had escaped from the church.

By the time they were waving the kids off again for another week Dick was well enough to make conversation. Jason heard him counting toys every now and then, but when he asked whether Dick thought they should replace the doll with the broken leg or the bear missing an eye Dick replied with the doll.

"You can just sew a button on the bear for an eye. It's what Thomas did with Bruce's."

So Jason did. He performed bear surgery that very evening with Dick hovering just that bit too close over his shoulder. Jason didn't tell him to move away. Even to go check on Tim, despite how he worried for the boy. He let Dick find his comfort again, knowing he was still shaken.

It wasn't like it was the first time that Dick had encountered some kind of sex, whether it be on the streets or in the rest rooms they visited. But Dick had always psyched himself up for those outings. He knew that out there he would be tempted, and therefore must be prepared. But at Tim's, yeah, Jason should have warned him.

"So Bruce," Jason started, both out of curiosity and because the silence was killing him. "When you changed him, did he grow from a kid to what he is or did he just poof into that?"

Damian seemed to be growing normally after all. He was a bit small, but Dick had assured him he was normal for the ten years he was.

'He grew." 

"What did he feed on?" Since, if he was an incubus like Dick, Jason did not want to think of a kid being forced to overpower someone like that.

"He didn't have to. What I do is a punishment. Bruce, he doesn't feel hunger like I do. He doesn't feel anything."

"Nothing?" 

He felt Dick shrug on the back of his chair. "Why do you think demons are so evil? That they get pleasure from making people do bad things? They feel nothing. Boredom, maybe. It's a problem as much as it is a solution. It makes them followers to the demons that do, the fallen. It makes them want to be frustrated and seek any way to make it go away." 

It sounded like a horrible life. "Yet Bruce is worried about you?" He remembered what the demon had said, what Dick had. It definitely sounded like worry.

Dick sighed, Jason feeling it on the back of his neck. "Some demons are created out of nothing, some out of angels and some are made out of people. The demons like Bruce remember feelings. When I was gone for a while, he remembered that he should be worried so he went looking for me. He doesn't actually feel it. The only reason he still hangs around with me is because we have a sort of imprint. That and I babysit for him."

Jason hummed, finishing the last stitch on his Frankenstein bear. "So, is Damian the same? I noticed you didn't mention his kind in your little list."

"That's because Damian is in a whole different realm. Trust me, I'm still figuring out Damian."

"Not encouraging." But since Damian hadn't been around to threaten Jason he didn't loose too much sleep over the kid.

Speaking of sleep, Jason didn't get any that night. He wanted to say it was because of something else, but quite frankly, Jason just didn't trust Dick. The demon wasn't even offended. He kept his wings out all night, pinning Jason with one in a sort of cage to keep a real barrier between Jason and Dick.

When daylight came once more, Jason was yawning over his breakfast. "I have a funeral tomorrow," he grumbled, "don't suppose there's any way I can chain you up somewhere so I can get a decent nights sleep?"

"'Fraid not." Dick looked just as miserable as Jason.

Luckily, they had nothing until the soup kitchen that afternoon, so Jason busied Dick with counting the number of lines of Jason's favourite book while he got ten minutes hiding in a cupboard. He came out to find Dick still counting, and knowing this technique was only going to lead to more problems tried to come up with another solution.

It came to Jason when they were at the soup kitchen. He was keeping an eye on Dick in the back, the two of them washing and drying the plates and bowls that never stopped coming.

"So, I think I might have come up with an idea to help you. It's not ideal since we're just substituting one addiction for another, but if the other is less harmful I think it could work in your favour." It was simple really. Dick couldn't eat so it wasn't like Jason could get him some gum and call it a day. What he could do was find something Jason could do with Dick that would curb that need to pounce him.

Exercise. 

"We can go for runs. Get my adrenalin high so you get used to that sensation without the sexual connotations. Also, when you feel like you need to do something you can do something else, rather than pin me down."

Dick looked sceptical, and he had every right to be. 

That night, when they got home, Jason started looking up different exercises they could do. Running was high on the list for mornings when Jason woke up and needed to get away. Weights were recommended, but since Jason had little to no money they were out of the question. He was scrolling through yoga sites when Dick pushed his way onto Jason's knee.

"What's that?" His pointing finger not letting Jason get a good look in.

It took some careful shifting before Jason was looking at a small advert for gymnast rings. "Gymnastics?"

"He's off the floor. His feet aren't touching. I thought not many humans were able to do magic."

Magic. Right. A story for another day. "We aren't. This guy's just holding himself up with his hands. See?"

Which led to Jason looking up different gymnastic videos. The bar didn't really interest Dick. Neither did the floor routines. What did were the bars, and when Jason found the trapeze he couldn't get Dick off the computer.

Dick was so distracted that Jason got almost a full nights sleep before being woken at six in the morning by an excited demon. 

Paper was thrust into his hands, Jason willing his erection down as Dick curled himself around him. The letters were gibberish for a while until Jason realised it was an address.

"They do lessons not far from here."

Lessons? Dick grinned at him blankly until it clicked in Jason's head. "You want to take trapeze lessons?" He could see the appeal for Dick. Jason often found him looking out the window, his wings flapping, or trying to, if it was particularly windy. Still, lessons meant money, and Jason just didn't have any. Yet, he found himself saying, "Maybe," when Dick kept on smiling at him.

The maybe was good enough. It had him eager enough that when Jason showered he didn't even follow him in. 

They went for their first run that day. By the time Jason got back he remembered why he hated it. He was sweaty, people kept saying hello to him, and three blocks back he almost got mugged. 

Still, Dick was in high spirits. So much so he didn't flinch when Tim walked in that evening. Jason sent Dick off to the other volunteers anyway.

Tim, this week was almost unrecognisable under all the blankets in his arms. Jason thought for a moment that he'd picked up a load someone had left outside when he saw what good make the material was.

"Tim, thank you." Since Jason was not going to turn his nose up at any generosity sent his way. "I can't believe you did this."

The teen shrugged, the blankets almost toppling. Jason took half so he could talk. "I've started a collection in my class. They're bringing cans in next week."

"Thank you," Jason remembered to say, the notion itself rendering Jason's brain useless for a while.

They split into groups, Jason taking the risk and having Tim in his. Dick seemed to blank the kid altogether, hanging off Jason like a koala as he led them through the streets. It was only when they passed basically no homeless people that Jason realised they weren't on their usual route.

"Alright, where are you taking me?" Jason asked.

Dick didn't answer, just dragged Jason down another two shady streets until they came to a warehouse. Jason almost stopped walking, knowing for a fact nothing good happened in Gotham's warehouses, but he trusted Dick not to kill him. 

Dick didn't take him to the front door at least. Instead, he took Jason to the window where, "Seriously?" There was a man flying high on a trapeze.

"It's not that far. And they do couples prices. So if I either of us falls the other can catch them." Damn if Dick didn't have the saddest puppy dog eyes Jason had ever seen.

"I said I would think about it and I will. I promise. But now we have something else to do. I don't want to be the one telling Mr Drake why his son is an hour late back home."

Dick pouted but let Jason take them back on track. The three of them handed all the blankets they had out, Jason noting how different they reacted when they got some of the good material.

They were a few minutes later than normal, Dick zipping straight upstairs to look up more videos. "You'd best be off. I'm sorry again for Dick taking us off route. He's just a bit excited."

Tim shrugged. "He doesn't mind."

"What?"

"My dad. He doesn't care what I do. He doesn't even notice I'm gone. So, you don't have to worry about him calling." Tim kept his head down the whole time he talked. A kid who was used to keeping to himself.

"I'm sorry to hear that," Jason made himself say. Since, if Tim's dad didn't care then he wasn't using Tim. Jason knew the signs, and monitoring the kids coming and goings was one of them. 

Tim cleared his throat, "So, you and Dick are doing trapeze?"

Jason prayed Dick wasn't listening. "Maybe. I don't think Dick realises I don't have the funds."

Tim frowned. "But, I thought you got an allowance. For social stuff. I know Father Williams, the priest we used to go to, he's always at the bars on his days off." The silence hadn't even had a chance to settle before Tim was defending himself saying, "I did some research about it too."

Jason stifled a chuckle, wondering what kind of kid spent his free time looking up things about priests. "Well, that is true. But, the difference between myself and Father Williams is that I actually contribute my funds to the communities I help. If you've done your research you'll know that we also get an allowance to help with those charities as well. However, they are based on the church. I'm sure if you looked at my funds and Williams there would be a difference."

Tim nodded, not looking surprised at all. It turned out he had done his research. "So you put your own money in."

"Just little things. Nothing too much, I do actually hope the community will help if I ask. But things like toys or cupcakes for the kids, extra food for the homeless, I'll gladly give over a few dollars for them." But, if he was going to be keeping his demon happy it looked like he would have to cut back on those too.

"Dick's lucky to have you," Tim said.

Jason hummed, his mind not grasping Tim's meaning until the kid was walking off with a promise to be around next week.

Dick was on Jason's bed when he came up. There were cirque videos on now, Dick back in Jason's underwear. As much as he wanted to say he couldn't see where Tim got the idea of Dick and Jason being together, he could. It wasn't like it was even banned in the church. Not anymore. Hell, he knew Father Michaels on the other side of the river had a wife and kids. 

"Tim thinks we're a couple," Jason said, squeezing his way beneath the sheets.

"I know."

"You do?"

Dick nodded. "He also has a crush on us. Well, me, but he thinks you're the sweetest guy he's ever met."

Jason narrowed his eyes, just processing that for a moment. It explained why Dick was so freaked out, well, more freaked out, if Tim was thinking of him as he masturbated. But, "You were only watching him for a day."

Dick hummed, "Trust me, a lot happened. He has little sketches of you in his notepad. Much better than the ones he has of me. He never gets my chest right."

Jason didn't know what to say so he said nothing. Turning his back, he tried to sleep.

Dick pressed him for trapeze lessons the rest of the week. He helped twice as much, to be fair, but ever since the Tim incident he'd been on edge. Jason tried helping. They went for runs, Jason tried yoga, and it worked for a little while. But, as always, it was only a temporary relief. By nightfall, Dick was either writhing behind Jason, trying to stop himself from molesting or watching Youtube videos, his wings trying their hardest to flap in a wind it sorely missed.

When Tim turned up on Thursday Jason was both distracted and hopeful. Distracted because he saw one of the women volunteering trying to get too chummy with Dick. Hopeful because Tim had actually said more than two words to him last week. 

He didn't even notice Tim come in until he was being tapped on the shoulder. "Tim," Jason gave him a smile, ignoring the fact that the kid had a crush. Especially since it was bigger for Dick than Jason. "It's good to see you."

Tim gave him a small smile back. Progress. "I brought supplies."

Jason must have a different definition of supplies, because to him that meant a box of cans that Tim had promised last week. Instead, when Jason stepped out he was greeted to Tim's car and a trunk full of blankets, cans and, when they started unloading the first layer, toys for the kids.

"Tim, what did you do?" 

Tim coloured slightly. "It's no bother. My parents give me a big allowance. I barely spend any of it. This didn't even put a dent in it. I want to help."

"And you are." Jason was so tempted to tell Tim to take half of this back. But, he was strapped for supplies and while he knew Tim was probably doing this because of his crush he couldn't send this away. It wasn't for him, it was for the others. "You're a good boy Tim."

Jason didn't go out that night with the others. Instead, he sent Dick out alone, well, with a phone he was constantly in contact with, and sorted through what Tim had brought over. He rationed them for weeks to come, marvelling at every prisitine product Tim had gotten.

By the time Dick and Tim were back Jason had never smiled so much in his life. He couldn't stop thanking Tim. He was pretty sure the kid was sick of hearing it by the time he set off home. Needless to say he didn't need Dick telling him that Tim was going to be remembering Jason's smile when he got home.

There was one thing he could tell Dick however. 

"Really?"

"With Tim's contribution I think I can scrounge up enough money to take you in a few weeks."

Dick was an absolute sweetheart after that. Jason got breakfast stolen for him, a bath drawn when he needed one. He even got a good nights sleep.

When the day finally came where Jason scrounged up enough money, not for both but for Dick to have more than one lesson, he ddidn't think he'd ever seen the demon so excited. Jason was hurried through breakfast, Dick's hands not even lingering as he stripped Jason for the shower. When they finally got to street level, Jason was sure Dick had used some kind of magic since there was no other way they had ended up at the warehouse that fast otherwise.

"Now, Dick," Jason warned, pulling the demon back before he could burst through the doors. "Trapeze takes years of work. I know you want to be like the people in the videos, but even with your... genetics, it may take some time before you get to their level. I just don't want you to be disappointed."

Dick dropped the smile, "I know Jay. But, I promise, I have no expectations. I just want to get off the ground for a while."

"Okay then."

He paid for five lessons up front, scattering them out over five weeks so Dick would have something to look forward to. The lady was very nice about it, even throwing in one for free when Dick turned up the charm. 

Jason took refuge on one of the benches as Dick went to warm up with the instructor. They spent a lot of time on the floor, Jason wondering if they were going to get on the air at all this session or if Jason was going to be consoling a pouty demon the rest of the day. 

Yet, finally, after half an hour, they started on the ladder. Dick didn't have any hesitation about jumping when the guy said so. He held on too long however, and fell when the guy prompted.

Jason was up before Dick hit the net, seeing just the look on his face before he let go. He helped Dick out, waving the instructor away as he soothed Dick through a panic attack.

It wasn't long, but it was enough for Dick to feel humiliated, not just because it had happened in public. Panicking was a human emotion, one an angel had never felt, and if Dick hadn't fell, much like he did now, he wouldn't have experienced this emotion at all.

"Like I said, it takes time," Jason soothed. He'd been comforting Dick with words like that for the last few minutes. 

Thankfully, Dick listened to those. "I know," he said again, a determined light filling his eyes as he went back over to the ladder to try again.

Dick got four more attempts in the air before their session was up. Dick had fallen all four, but unlike last time there was no panic when he hit the ground. It was just like what they were doing at the church, they were trying their best, Dick earning his way up. It wasn't easy, and it certainly wasn't certain, yet when they left, Dick with a list of arm strengthening routines to do he didn't give up.

"For a second I could feel it," Dick said later. He was preening his wings, picking out feathers that had tangled with the misshapen bones. "The air beneath me, supporting me. I thought I missed it before." He shook his head, "There's no describing it."

"You're going to go home. I know you are."

The trapeze lessons managed to do something Jason had never been able to in the beginning of their aquaintance. Somehow, the reminder of what he once was every week gave him the strength to stay strong where saying no had him agonizing for hours.

By the time Jason was booking another five lessons, Tim surprising him again with another trunk load, this time with the assurance most of it was from his classmates, Dick was enroaching on almost two months without a feeding. He wasn't irritable either, not like he had been last time. When Jason woke up stiff he found Dick doing a handstand against a wall, not even a glance spares to the tent walking past him. Showers saw Dick planking. It got to a point where Dick watched over Tim for a night without an incident.

Well, Jason wouldn't say that, but at least Dick had finally found an outlet for his frustration.

It was a Saturday, Dick out at his training session and Jason sweeping the pews for Sunday when the repercussions of Dick watching over Tim reared its head. Jason didn't even notice anyone in the church having blasted music to help with his labour. All he did notice was that when he turned, he fell down, his nose stinging and eyes watering by the time he hit the ground. 

Something landed on his chest, the world too blurry for Jason to make much sense yet. 

"What the fuck is this?"

He recognised that voice. Jason scurried back, the pews a bad place to back up into.

"You know, I thought there was something fishy about Tim picking this hellhole. Never thought it was because you were fucking him. What did you do then? Bribe him? Groom him? Who knows how long you've been at this game."

Something wet landed on top of him, Jack's voice following him no matter how much he backed up.

*

"Sick the lot of you. They talk about your kind on the news. Priests who go after young boys. Still, never thought it would happen in my town."

Jason just managed to right the world in front of him when a kick to his stomach had his vision blurring again. Three more followed, one managing to get his jaw, his hands too busy protecting his stomach.

He was getting light headed, Jack's words fading in and out as aches set in. 

A knock to his cheek brought him back, Jack looming over him, one hand around Jason's neck as the other fiddled with something out of sight. "You must have been pretty damn good for Tim to spend all that money on you. I'd call the cops, but who knows what you'd tell them. So I guess I'll just have to teach you what happens if you touch my son again myself." There was a clinking, some primal part of Jason's memory telling him he only had one chance before this went somewhere bad.

He took it. Slamming his elbow up and rolling sideways he crawĺed from benearth Jack's frame to the next pew. 

Jason's first mistake, he thought back later, had been letting Jack get hit him in the face. If he'd been able to think clearly he'd know crawling beneath the pews was a bad idea. The next mistake had been the multiple hits to the stomach. From one Jason could have found his way to his feet no problem and ran for his rooms. Three, and all near the same place, it was a wonder he could lie on it to crawl. His third mistake, and quite frankly the worst, had been not reporting Jack that first time he'd stepped foot in Jason's confessional.

*

"Jay?" Dick's voice rang behind the door. "You'll never guess. I managed to do three rounds before I fell today. How great is that. Apparently I'm a natural."

"That's good," Jason choked out. His chest still hurt. 

A knock sounded, Dick much more considerate these days about boundaries. "When you're finished, I have a video. Oh, and I was thinking, maybe in a few weeks we can take the kids out somewhere. Like the park. Or the gym, I talked to Patty and she said because they're from the orphanage they'd be happy to give them a free session. I think they feel guilty for not helping with the last rally we had for more help at the food bank. Or she has a crush on me. Either way a free session is a free session."

 He made his throat work again, something coming out of it as he tried to brace himself to wash his face.

Dick didn't even knock, he just pushed the door open when Jason didn't give him the reply he needed. 

Jason didn't look up. He didn't think he could, his head was so heavy. He could hear Dick however. The way he just went silent, like he wasn't even there anymore.

He couldn't even cringe when Dick brushed his wet hair out of his face. Or when he picked up the sponge and dabbed it along Jason's bruised neck. The bath water Jason knew was pink, black in the colourless room, but if he turned the light on it would be pick, something else mixing in too he was trying not to think about.

He turned his head, Dick's lemon scented hair right in his nose, the kind he forced Jason to buy last time they were out. "Humans are awful," he said.

The sponge stilled, floating back along the water as Dick pulled Jason until his scabbed face was on Dick's shirt. "You're not," Dick promised.

"I want my mom." Jason spent the rest of the night clutching onto Dick.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so, I'm going to start doing this in smaller chapters so I can update more regularly. This whole long chapter thing is kind of putting me off and making the story more spacy than it should be. Hope you guys enjoy anyway.

The police should have been called. There was enough evidence downstairs to prove that Jason wasn’t making his story up. Jack had ran almost as fast as he had entered, leaving Jason there, alone on the hard wood. No clean up, no nothing. Jason had evidence, he knew that, Jack knew that.

But the thing was, Jack wouldn’t have done any of last night if he hadn’t known he would get away with it. He wouldn’t have approached that first girl on the street if he didn’t know he would get away with it. Men like that, they planned beforehand. Jason didn’t believe for a second last night had been a spur of the moment thing. There was no way it had been. Which meant, all those Sundays he’d been scoping Jason out, seeing what kind of man he was. Whether he would chance calling the police or not.

Dick wasn’t pleased. He hadn’t left Jason alone from the moment he found him in the bath. Jason didn’t really want him to either. He’d cocooned Jason between his wings all night, the extra heat, for once, not bothering him as he burrowed closer to Dick’s soft skin.

“He’s going to be there today,” Dick warned.

The two of them were staring at the clock on Jason’s laptop, a video of a man doing a somersault in mid-air still playing. “I know.” It was already later than the time Jason usually got up. Due in part to the fact that without the numbness, the shock, that had kept him safe last night gone, he could barely move without wanting to scream. “But, it’s Sunday and it’s too late to call someone else in.”

“Then I’ll find someone,” Dick decided, and just the idea of Dick roaming around Gotham and picking up the nearest priest, of Jason’s sect or not, had him cracking a smile. The man wouldn’t know what hit him.

“Dick, it’s Sunday.”

Dick grumbled, his wings tightening their hold on Jason. An obvious trap if Jason had ever seen one, yet one that was deliciously soft on his pained flesh. “You shouldn’t have to go down. You’re injured. You should be at one of those healing houses making sure you aren’t going to die.”

An interesting way to describe a hospital, but one nonetheless. Jason’s skin crawled just thinking about visiting the hospital. “I don’t need to go, I’m not dying. And I have to go down. It’s my job, the one I signed up for. If I can’t conduct it while I’m a little banged up then I’m not fit to serve God.”

That just sent Dick down another tangent. One which Jason ignored in favour of getting out of bed. Dick whined the whole time Jason got ready. He tried everything from poking Jason’s bruises to standing in front of the door to get Jason back into bed and away from the church. Yet, Jason had a job to do, so he ignored the fingers probing his skin and took to climbing out the window. Yes, he may have made his arms worse, his wrists in particular which were still bruised from being held down, but he managed to make it down.

Cleaning up was a challenge. Walking in, Jason had forgotten that there was still a mess waiting for him. Well, no, he hadn’t forgotten, it had been on his mind all morning, the evidence that would support what Jack did to him. Yet, somehow his brain had separated the crime scene from his beloved church, and it took courage he didn’t know he had to close that window of opportunity to call the police and clean the blood up.

It wouldn’t have done much good, he thought. It wouldn’t have done anything except bring attention he didn’t want down on him. Jason would bet anything that Jack had people on the police looking out for him. If he didn’t, he certainly had the money to buy them. Jack also owned a rather large, public, company, one that probably had a publicist. One that would dig into every little thing Jason wanted buried in order to make him the bad guy.

Jason picked up the notebook that had been flung at him last night. Inside, were sketches of himself and Dick. It was Tim’s that much was apparent. Just looking at it showed why an ordinary parent would be pissed off with Jason interacting with a teenager. Tim had quite a filthy imagination. For Dick anyway. The ones of himself were more subdued, but nonetheless, Jason was in here, and he had heard the jokes and stories that had come out of the press about priests and young boys. Sure, Jason was barely twenty himself, but Tim was seventeen, and, more, he was the son of a well to do Gothamite.

Jason wouldn’t have stood a chance.

They would probably twist his charity projects too. The kids at the orphanage, the homeless people. The desperate people in this world who would do anything for just a little bit of attention or money. It would be easy to get them to lie, and once they did, Jason would be looking at a case that didn’t even remember the fact that he was the victim here.

“I’m not letting him in,” Dick warned, appearing beside Jason as he scrubbed the last of the blood from the pew. “If he comes, I’m sending him off. He’s not stepping foot back in here.”

Jason sighed, knowing just how bad this was going to go down but knowing he was obliged to nonetheless. “You have to. The bible says that if he seeks forgiveness, I have to give it. I can’t cast someone out, no matter what they’ve done to me.”

“No,” Dick said, bristling as he no doubt remembered the very same lines.

“You know it’s true. If it weren’t you wouldn’t even be here Dick.”

If Dick’s wings had been out, they would have been twitching with anger, since they weren’t, Jason just had to settle for watching the demon’s hands. “That’s different,” Dick muttered at last.

“Is it?” Jason challenged. “Dick, just how different are you and Jack? Really?”

Jason could see the truth hitting Dick hard, and it was the truth. Really, Dick had done just as much, if not worse, than Jack in his lifetime. He’d taken advantage of people, he’d ruined people’s lives. “But I’m not human,” Dick settled on eventually.

“No,” Jason agreed. “You’re a demon. According to the bible, you shouldn’t even be able to be forgiven. Yet you are, and as much as I hate to say it, Jack has that option too.” He sighed, dropping the cloth back in his bucket. “Look, I’m not trying to argue. I don’t like this anymore than you do. Do you think I want him back in here? Because I don’t Dick. I don’t. But my job isn’t to choose who I do and don’t let in. Only God has that power. So if Jack comes today, you let him in.”

Dick shuddered, slinking down onto the only dry spot he could find. “And what if he tries something again? He usually comes for confession remember?”

Jason did. He’d been wondering how on Earth he could get out of it, but, again, there was no loophole he could find. Save for calling the police. “He’ll probably just taunt me. Threaten me at the most. But with his family here he won’t try anything like last night again.”

“Forgive me if I don’t believe you.”

Dick dissolved, slinking back into the shadows he sometimes liked to make. Jason watched him go until he couldn’t tell Dick apart from the rest of the darkness, then he put his bucket away.

This morning’s service wasn’t too full. Well, it had never been full to start with, but today seemed particularly empty, allowing Jason a clear cut view of when the Drake family walked in. He tried not to look. There were a good twenty other people to look at after all, yet Jason’s eyes kept straying back again and again until they were fixed on the Drake family.

Somehow, Jason made it through the service without a hitch. Sure, Dick did make an appearance here and there, invisible to everyone else as he whispered hateful comments in Jason’s ear. They should have distracted Jason. Instead, they helped him remember he wasn’t alone this time. They helped, particularly, during communion, Dick, somehow, managing to make part of him solid enough to give Jack a solid slap in the stomach right as he’d turned a cocky eye on Jason. It was a particularly good image helped by the fact that he’d just swallowed wine, the liquid choking itself back up as Dick curled himself back around Jason.

Either the wine incident, or the fact that Dick appeared with the most murderous look on his face when mass was finished swayed Jack from staying behind for confession. Dick was a frightening picture when he wanted to be, and right now, not even Jason’s normal parishioners were staying behind for a chat, too busy hightailing it out.

“He can’t come back,” Dick said again. “I mean it. He can’t.”

“I know,” Jason sighed. “But, at least now we have a week to persuade them to go.”

Dick raised an eyebrow over at him, “I thought you said I had to suck it up if he wanted to come in.”

“You do,” Jason agreed. “And if he comes back you will have to again. But, if you would have listened to me this morning instead of ranting about why I should shoot Jack on sight, there are ways to persuade him to leave and not come back. Ways that don’t go against religious teachings.”

Dick looked subtly impressed hours later when Jason finished his rough draft. It was a simple letter, one detailing all the reasons why the Drakes would do well to find another parish to visit on a Sunday. It wasn’t kicking them out at all, and Jason thought wouldn’t be taken the wrong way when, hopefully, Janet read it.

Jason even phoned ahead to Father Williams, their old priest, and told him about Tim’s helpful contributions to Jason’s community. He knew, in the long run, Tim’s provisions he’d already brought them would run out. When they did, Jason was going to have to find another means of getting Dick those trapeze lessons, or, maybe, stop them altogether. He would cross that bridge when it came to it. For now, he just made sure Father Williams realised the prize he’d let slip through his fingers.

Needless to say, Dick was more amendable that night now he knew Jason had taken some action towards Jack. Not a lot, but, when Jason asked for help cooking, Dick didn’t hide or rant the whole time.

He had Dick run the letter up on Monday. Sunday, Jason had used the rest of the day to call in ahead to all the projects he had running and cancel his appearance to them. As much as he knew there were others out there suffering worse, his ribs were on fire and the thought of walking around Gotham or even catching a kid that wanted a hug had him wheezing.

With nothing to do, Jason napped like he hadn’t in years, and when he woke he spotted Dick as the demon tried to show off the little acrobatics he had learnt over the weeks.

Tuesday, they went grocery shopping, Jason never more thankful for Dick’s presence than he was that day as he spent most of their trip hanging off the cart and avoiding people’s gazes. He could see the people who knew who he was. The ones who had seen him before in this state. He heard one couple hiss about another mad attack, the two of them putting it down to another crazed junkie.

It still marvelled him how easy everyone was taking this. If Gotham had been any other city Jason would have bet there would be people asking what the hell had happened to him. It wasn’t like he was a street fighter, priests weren’t supposed to get beaten up like this. Yet, here he was, in Gotham, his nose banged to high hell and unable to walk a few feet without difficult reminders to adjust his gait a few more days.

Thankfully, the gossip only took place when Jason was alone. When Dick was next to him, it was almost like Jason was invisible, and right now, he was grateful for it.

When they got home, even with his cupboard full, Jason let Dick fetch him dinner. He welcomed the chance for greasy food, digging in almost as soon as Dick set it in front of him, and when he was done, he had a good night of flipping through TV shows he’d missed. He felt guilty, briefly, for putting the orphans off. The kids really were no bother. But they did cling and climb and Jason knew that even if he had been sitting on top of the alter one of them would have ended up barrelling into him at some point.

He'd make it up to them next week.

Jason woke early Wednesday morning. Really early.

He blinked into the darkness, trying to remember if it had been a bad dream that woke him. Yet, his sleep had been fine tonight.

He turned over, Dick’s feather’s trailing against his skin. Dick was awake, as usual, when they met eye to eye. Only, unlike usual, Dick wasn’t reading or watching videos. Instead, his eyes were narrowed, focused on a part of the wall and glazed. Jason listened, knowing that was what Dick was doing.

He didn’t hear anything for a while. Nothing but the usual goings on at night. Then, right as Jason was considering leaving Dick to it, he heard it. There as a subtle shifting, a clinking like glass hitting the floor. Jason tried to think, to work out where it was. The windows in the church were too high for someone to climb through, and the only other window down there that was remotely accessible was the one in the small bathroom.

“Leave it,” Jason said, turning into Dick’s wings again.

“Someone’s breaking in,” Dick countered.

Jason shrugged. It wasn’t like it was unusual. The church got two to three break ins a year. “They’ll look for something valuable and leave.” Not that there was anything. Jason had checked. If there ever had been anything valuable in the church it was long gone by now.

Dick seemed to calm at Jason’s casual dismissal. Hunkering down himself, he lay his head on Jason’s shoulder, his fingers lightly trailing over Jason’s wrist as the heavy footsteps downstairs took a turn. Okay, now Jason was worried. He squirmed his way painfully up, trying to make as little noise as possible as he reached for the phone.

“I thought you said it was okay,” Dick said.

Jason shushed him, climbing back between Dick’s barricade. “They’re heading for the stairs. Hopefully, they’ll find my wallet and call it a day.” Again, someone breaking into his own personal quarters weren’t that unheard of. It happened every one out of four burglaries, but, sometimes as was often when Jason found them stealing or they knew he was in, they turned violent. They would come for him in his rooms. Or, if it wasn’t a burglary and was in fact a pissed off parishioner, they were meaning to come for him.

They listened, Jason’s finger poised on the call button as the footsteps climbed the stairs. There was a surprised grunt, the door creaking open and whoever was on the other side seeming to have no problem with the noise he was making. Jason got worried.

There was no sound of rifling. Where the footsteps went there was no shuffling or clunking that would be expected if they were looking for something to sell. Instead, they went in and out of every room, the door just opening a slither in Jason’s bedroom before he was up and slamming it shut in whoever’s face.

There was a low chuckle on the other side, something cold running up Jason’s spine as his instincts placed the voice before his mind. He reared up against the door, putting all his weight behind it as the first attempt to get it open came.

A second was delayed, Jack, on the other side, preferring to taunt. “Being coy now are you? After what you did to Tim-“

“I did nothing to him!” He should have kept his mouth shut, but Jason had never had good control over his mouth at any time. He took a breath, his brain taking over as he urged Dick sitting there ready to kill not to do anything. That was all he needed, Dick backtracking because Jack Drake decided he wanted another go. “Look. The police are on their way. Unless you want to explain why you broke in I suggest you go.”

There was silence on the other side, long enough for Jason to slacken his hold. “I don’t hear them,” Jason heard through the door, his front being slammed as the door gave way under Jack’s third attempt. Jason had the strength to push it back in place again, knowing that a fourth time was out of the question. “You know, you may as well let me in. Even if you did call the police, this is a church, I can just tell them I came for advice and you let me up.”

It wouldn’t be the first time, which meant it was more than believable.

Jason shot another look back at Dick, the demon up now, his form mostly shadow, ready to shoot through the door. He shook his head, Dick growling lowly in response just as the fourth slam rendered Jason on his back. He caught a brief glimpse of Jack in the doorway, the man holding another book with Tim’s name on the front and a letter that Jason knew Dick had delivered on Monday. Then it went black.

He thought his brain was taking over, blacking out like it sometimes did while others used him how they liked. Yet the darkness cleared after a moment, Jason finding himself on the street outside the church. Dick was next to him, his fists clenching around Jason’s shoulders.

When Jason looked up, he found his window with Jack draping himself outside. The two of them shared looks of disbelief as Dick started carting Jason away.

They ended up at the orphanage, Dick not even hesitating before dragging Jason up the stairs and to the attic. He was surprised to find a bed there, one with a little demon he’d met only a few times before sleeping soundly on top of it. Well, he had been until Dick softly kicked him awake.

Damian bolted up, twin green fires replacing his eyes before calming back to their human shape as they saw Dick. “Dick?”

“Hey little D,” Dick had the presence of mind to not sound angry. He tugged Jason over, Damian’s eyes narrowing as Dick sat Jason on the small bed. “Listen, you remember Father Todd right? How he let you play in the church?” Damian nodded. “Well, I need him to stay here tonight. It’s important. Think you can be nice?”

The kid tutted, but made room for Jason to squeeze on.

“Oh,” Dick remembered, “And, don’t tell your dad. Our little secret.”

Damian pursed his lips but nodded again.

Dick finally let go of Jason, the skin he’d been touching burnt raw. “Where are you going?” Jason asked, finally finding his voice. Dick didn’t answer, which made Jason worried. He clung on before Dick could disappear on him, tugging him down to the bed as well. “No. No! You are not going back there.”

“I’m not,” Dick said.

“I don’t believe you.” He pushed Dick down further. “Listen. I don’t care if that’s the vilest man on planet Earth. You are not going to do anything. He’s not worth it.”

“He broke into your home!”

“I don’t care.”

Dick did. He cared so much he didn’t even stay solid to hear Jason out. One moment, Jason was ready to tell Dick that Jack wasn’t worth it. That he never would be. That Dick was putting his chance of going home on the line, and the next, he was alone with a half demon that was snuggling into his stomach.

He didn’t know what morning would bring. Or even if he would see it. But he did know that he was terrified. Not for himself. He could deal with whatever happened to himself. He always had. But Dick. Dick had a chance in a lifetime, and Jason got the feeling that him being here with Damian was putting that in jeopardy.

Dick wasn't back by morning. Jason woke to someone snuffling into his stomach, the hands getting tighter on his arms until Jason cast them off. 

He didn't really know what to make of Damian. Nor why the kid was sleeping in the orphanage. What Jason did know was that it was morning and Jason was hungry and away from home.

He made to leave. Should have left, but Damian sitting alone on his little bed tugged at a part of Jason that he shouldn't be feeling for the half demon. "Do you eat?" Jason asked.

Damian shrugged, "I feel hunger. Colin gives me crackers that make it go away sometimes."

Every part of Jason was screaming bad decision as he told the kid to follow him. He took Damian back to the church, the kid eyeing the holy water as soon as he saw it.

The church looked just the same as Jason left it. He checked the window, the glass still shattered on the floor. The hole Jack had made was a big one, the whole window looking like it would need to be replaced. Jason picked Damian up when he found the kid about to pick up one of the larger shards. He didn't trust it not to end up in his back so he quickly shut the door and carried Damian up to his rooms. 

Jason's rooms were not how he left them. It looked like a tornado had hit, everything out of its place and on the floor. Jason cleaned up on his way to the kitchen, his stomach protesting each time he bent down.

Damian clung on until Jason set him on the counter, the kid swinging his legs and not so subtly trying to bash Jason's cupboards in on their way down. The kitchen was just as bad as everywhere else, Jason's skin itching with the fact someone had been here, rooting through his things, upsetting their place. He put some toast in for Damian, picking up what could be salvaged and setting it back in order.

The toast popped up, Damian seeming familiar with a toaster as he grabbed the bread, pouting a little as he sent accusing eyes at Jason. "It's burning my fingers."

Jason batted the toast down. "That's because it's hot. Here," he grabbed a plate and the butter, even cut the crusts off for the kid. "Okay, have it now."

Damian munched as Jason set the kitchen right. He was hungry too, way hungrier than he said he was. By the time Jason was moving onto the living room Damian had demolished three more slices of toast and a bowl of sugary cereal Jason had eventually caved in to Dick for.

He was on his second bowl when Jason moved to the bedroom. Only, nothing was out of place here. Jason checked the bathroom, that too in a state it wasn't usually. But the bedroom, the last place Jack had been, seemed to be untouched.

Jason didn't dwell on it.

Instead, he went back to Damian and wondered just what the hell he was going to do with the kid. The kid was sitting on Jason's table, trying to chew through a spoon by the looks of it.

Jason popped it out the kids mouth, taking the bowl back into the kitchen before sitting next to him. "What were you doing at the orphanage?" He asked, getting the most pressing question out of the way first. 

Damian shrugged. "Dick told me to stay there."

"What about your dad? Shouldn't you be with him?" Dick made it sound like the other demon, Bruce, was somewhat responsible for his spawn.

Damian shook his head. "Father is busy. Dick looks after me. But he stays with you and I'm not allowed here so he makes me stay there instead."

Oh. Crap. "I didn't know." He just thought it was babysitting like it was with humans. Dick got him on evenings or something. Not full time. If he had known... But, again, Jason couldn't really blame his past self for being cautious. Damian, unlike Dick, had been born a demon. He had no former good life he wanted to get back to. Yet, he was half human too. 

Damian, for his part, didn't look too put out with the situation. "The nuns are funny. They tell these stories about this man who can make wine out of water. And Colin is fun. We play cowboys and sneak out at night to steal snacks from the store across the street."

"Right." Still, Damian was staying in the attic like the wife in Jane Eyre. Something told Jason the nuns didn't know about their little squatter, which, if he was really going to do something stupid here was going to work in his favour.

He was still undecided, so he went to clean himself up, leaving Damian with his laptop and a host of books. 

He tried not to think about the fact Jack had been here last night. Jason had already been avoiding the church floor, he didn't want to be avoiding his own home too. He couldn't even look at himself in the mirror yet. It was a hurdle he needed to cross, he knew, but maybe when he wasn't still a black and blue disaster.

It took longer than usual, but eventually Jason got showered and dressed, emerging from the bathroom to find Damian cocking his head at some video Dick had saved on Youtube.

The kid hadn't destroyed anything while Jason was gone. A small hope he knew, but a hope nonetheless.

Jason clapped his hands, Damian jumping at the noise. There was a look of almost fright on his face, gone in an instant but there enough for Jason to know not to do that again.

"Do you have anything at the orphanage you need to get?" Jason asked.

"Get?"

"Clothes? Toys? Whatever you own."

Damian shook his head. "Colin gave me this shirt. Should I get the rest of them?"

"No." The last thing he needed was Colin mysteriously losing the last remaining items he owns. "Okay." He thought for a while, wondering, not for the first time, where Dick was. He grabbed his wallet. "Come on."

Damian trotted behind him, trusting far too much in the little instruction Dick gave him the night before. 

He took Damian to the store, cursing himself again and again that this was a bad idea as he told the kid to try on shirts and pants. The distraction helped keep his mind off other things. Like the fact Jack had come back for seconds. But what it didn't push away was the fact that Jason had left this little demon alone and u supervised with a bunch of vulnerable kids. Who knows what could have happened if Damian actually had bad intentions.

It cost more than Jason was expecting, he was actually dreading the next time he needed to renew Dick's lessons.

Speaking of, Dick was there when they got back, looking around Jason's rooms like he couldn't understand what had happened. He looked even more confused when Damian dawdled over to his previous spot on the table.

"What are you doing here?"

"Todd invited me," Damian said, spilling his bag full of clothes next to him.

Dick looked at Jason like he was expecting Damian to be lying. "I did. He's not staying at the orphanage anymore."

Dick rolled his eyes, Jason trying to focus on them rather than seeing if he could spot any clue as to where Dick had been on his person. "Jason, there's nowhere else to put him. Damian wasn't doing any harm there-"

"No," Jason interrupted. "I mean, he's staying here. So long as Bruce doesn't show up and Damian behaves I trust you to keep an eye on him." And keep him away from the children unsupervised.

Dick seemed to relax somewhat, before inching closer so Damian couldn't hear. "Jason he doesn't know about the..."

"He doesn't need to." If Dick wanted to keep his presence here a secret Jason was fine with it, "He just needs somewhere without damp. There's a cot downstairs I can drag up for him."

Dick squinted, appraising Jason for a while. He took Jason even further aside. "If this is some overreaction to last night-"

"It's not."

"I know you Jay. You don't like to talk. Not about yourself anyway," Dick grumbled. "Damian's fine at the orphanage."

Jason huffed, peering around Dick to see Damian holding a shirt up to his chest. "No, he's not. Besides, he's your responsibility. You can hardly work on your conscience when you're neglecting the promise you made Bruce."

"But he's-"

"He's a kid, and he's your responsibility. So you're going to help me bring a cot up for him."

"Jay," Dick sighed, obviously having something more to say, looking like it was on the Jack front too. So Jason ignored him in favour if looking for where he'd stowed the cot.

He found it hidden beneath a pile of canvas, a row of chairs they used to use for community meetings stacked around it. Damian had to end up helping them, the boy taking any opportunity to move things out of place and throwing the chairs against one of the walls. Jason would have been worried but the actions were actually helping.

He grabbed some spare sheets, making the cot up in the living room. It may not have been fair with all the break ins and craziness happening lately, but Jason reminded himself again that Damian was no ordinary boy. He had the sense of mind to seek out Dick if something felt off. Either that or he could fight it himself.

Jason wasn't worried about Damian at all. Not one bit.

When he moved Damian's cot into his room, the kid sitting bewhildered the whole while, it was purely because Jason's room was warmer than the living room. It had nothing to do with the fact that, as soon as it had grown dark Dick had disappeared with a vague message of not waiting up for him.

Nothing at all.

Damian was good on his part. He curled back up on his mattress and was asleep in seconds. Jason on the other hand, couldn't sleep. Every time he closed his eyes he wondered where Dick was. It had been far longer than usual since Dick had fed. Jason didn't want to think about what could trigger him after he'd been so good. He hoped, wherever Dick was, there was no temptation.

Unsurprisingly, Jason didn't get any sleep that night. He told himself it was mistrust over Damian. Or, tried to. But by morning, when Dick appeared again like nothing had happened last night, Jason knew it wasn't Damian he didn't trust in this house.

"Where've you been?" Jason asked, piling eggs on Damian's plate.

"Nowhere."

Jason levelled a look at Dick. Especially when the demon side eyed Damian again. "If you're doing something stupid Dick, I mean it, I want you to stop."

Damian tilted his head back, a scowl that would have been terrifying on his father on his face. "You don't tell us what to do priest."

Jason flicked Damian's nose. "My house, my rules. And if you want to go to your room without breakfast for the rest of the morning I have no problem with that."

Damian held his glare for another three seconds before it softened into a pout swiftly covered by eggs. "Still," Damian grumbled, "Dick does not have to explain himself to you."

Jason ignored him, focusing back on Dick who was still eyeing Damian like he was a pest. "You have to think of yourself Dick. Men like Jack will get their just reward sooner or later. It's not in our right to take that power for ourselves. And if you do... Dick that progress you've made, it will all be lost."

The fact Dick couldn't hold Jason's gaze while he spoke told Jason Dick had done something bad. The silence stretched long enough that Jason knew Dick wasn't going to defend himself. Damian started grumbling again at Jason taking liberties he shouldn't but he was easy to ignore, again, in favour of fixing the unknown mess Dick had created.

"It's not too late. My bruises are healing," slowly, but Jason could ignore the pain to do menial tasks now. "And with another pair of hands we can get back on track." Did he think Damian would help with the communities charities? No, he didn't. But Jason really just needed Damian to not interfere. A feat he was sure he could figure out with enough creativity. "Don't forget you have trapeze on Saturday. I was thinking you could make more plans for the orphanage to attend while you were there."

"Yeah?" Dick asked.

Dick wasn't asking about the kids. He honestly must have thought Jason would stop him from going to trapeze because he'd disappeared for a few nights. "Yeah."

Jason got whacked with a fork not long after as Damian asked what a trapeze was.

Dick didn't disappear the rest of the day. Instead, he did what he should have done yesterday and helped Jason figure out Damian. 

The kid was somewhat human. By that Jason meant he needed to eat and sleep. He felt things too, throwing one too many tantrums that morning as he puzzled over the relationship Jason and Dick had worked up. 

When he came out from his time out, wide eyed and astounded by the fact Dick didn't come rescue him, Jason went down the more dangerous path of what he could expect from Damian's other side. Dick had shrugged when asked, telling Jason there wasn't really anything specific to pin point.

Not true, but Jason didn't think Dick had been lying to him. More, like he just hadn't paid attention enough. Damian had a curiosity that rivalled any kids Jason had ever met. He seemed to either have a death wish or a want to give Jason a heart attack since more than once through the day Damian ended up in dangerous situations.

He flooded the bathroom. Sitting in the tub, fully clothed, Jason found him questioning how long he could hold his breath for under the tap. Damian set the kitchen on fire, the curtains and three cupboards cooking nicely as Damian worked out how heat worked. Jason found Damian in the rafters early afternoon, making Dick take this round as his ribs protested any more fast grabs today.

He was wired up as evening fell. Far too wired for someone who was meant to be taking it easy this week. Dick had quarrantined Damian in the living room, tossing the kid some crayons as he sat Jason in the kitchen.

"Still want Damian to stay? Because, I gotta tell you, Damian's juat getting started. He's just getting the lay of the land right now. When he really gets comfortable-"

"Alright. Alright," Jason sighed, shifting his stomach into a more comfortable position. "But I'm not kicking him out. He's a kid, somehow, and it's not like he's hurt anyone." Just himself and Jason.

"Yet. Look, he was fine at the orphanage. Just let me put him back."

"No." Just thinking about that drafty attic Damian had been in rubbed him the wrong way. If he could help the kid then Jason would. 

"But what about me? What about confession and helping people. If Dami sticks around he's going to ask questions. Or, he's going to tell his dad. It's bad enough I'm here, now Damian is too. Bruce is going to want to know what I'm doing and he's not going to stop until he finds out."

"And what if he does? What can he really do to you Dick?"

There was genuine fear on Dick's face, enough that Jason didn't press. What he did do was figure out what they actually were going to do about Damian.

"Okay, I have a solution." One, he hoped, would suit all parties involved. "How about, through the day, we send Damian to the orphanage. The kids there ddon't go to school, the nuns teach them. I'm sure I can persuade them to take Damian on too. Then, while Damian's away, we can work on you." It was basically what a kid Damian's age should have been doing anyway. School for day and at the church on an evening. Jason wasn't kicking Damian out, therefore, and Dick got the space to breathe he needed.

"He won't sit through the lessons," Dick huffed, but seemed on board with the idea regardless.

"He will." If Jason had to tie the kid down he was sitting through those lessons. "Besides, Colin's there. They seem to be on good enough terms," shoplifting excluded, "that Damian will at least stay and be quiet until they can play."

When they breached the topic Damian didn't seem to have an opinion on the matter, which Jason took as an agreement. He made the arrangements immediately afterwards, negotiating Damian's meal plan when he saw Dick and Damian both perk at something.

A tentative knock came not long after, looking to be coming from the door connecting to the church. Dick was sniffing about a bit, his wings still folded and eyes still normal so Jason was safe enough to assume it wasn't Jack.

Hanging up on the Sister, Jason told the two demons in his living room to stay as he tip toed down to the main door.

"Tim," Jason said, the kid on the other side invoking a whole host of emotions he tried to swallow down. 


	5. Chapter 5

Jason kept the door open as he led Tim to one of the pews, one well away from the blood that was still running through some of the tiles. He kept his eyes peeled the whole walk over for someone lurking. 

"What can I do for you Tim?" Dick was just up the stairs. He'd come get Jason if something happened. He would.

Tim, for his part, didn't look like he was leading Jason into a trap. But, then Jason didn't think he'd know himself if he was being led into a trap. People were devious, and more than once they had preyed on Jason's good nature.

"I was wondering why you wrote that letter? The one about us switching parishes? Did I...?" Tim fidgeted with his shirt, the sentence hanging between them.

"I felt it would be best if your family didn't trail out every Sunday just for mass. Your parents are busy people, and I know busy people don't enjoy their time being taken up." There, that was a good lie, and one that could be true in a sense. It also didn't pin the blame on Tim, which was the truth.

"They didn't mind," Tim said quietly. "Mom even said she preferred your sermons to Father Williams. You're much more passionate, it makes the services less boring." Considering at least one Drake was on their phone the whole hour, Jason wasn't putting too much faith in Tim's opinion of his mass. 

"Thank you," he said anyway. "But, again, I think your time would be better spent in a more... safe neighbourhood. I don't want to be the reason why your name crops up in the Gazette."

Tim narrowed his eyes, for once looking Jason in the eye as he asked, "Is this about what happened to you? I didn't want to bring it up. I know things like this happen, but I have to say I didn't think it would happen to someone like you."

"No one does," Jason definitely hadn't when he first joined the priesthood. Yet here they were. "Which is exactly why I don't want a man like you here Tim. This part of town is dangerous. Much more than you think. Besides, Father Williams isn't that bad." Not that Jason had ever sat through any of his services, but he'd seen the guy around.

"He is." Yet Jason got a chuckle out of Tim anyway. "I guess I can see why you sent that letter. But, Gotham's dangerous anywhere. I want to keep coming here. I feel like I'm making a difference. I hope that, if I do, there's nothing else you're not telling me that would stop me from coming."

Jason felt like he couldn't breathe for a moment. If Tim came back then Jack would, and despite what he told Dick there was nothing Jason wanted more than for him to smash the guy through the nearest window. He started thinking of ways to put Tim off, even bribe him over to the other church, but all Jason could think of was the fact that Jack was going to be back. 

Eventually, there was only one thing he could do, and he knew it was going to hurt the kid. But this was for the best, for everyone. "Tim, I know about your feelings for myself and Dick."

Whatever friendly expression had been on Tim's face fell in an instant. He scooted away, his mouth floundering before choking out, "You do?"

Jason got up, figuring he may as well get rid of some of the evidence hiding away in his cupboard. He didn't even look as he grabbed around for the notebook, passing it over to Tim as fast as he could. "Your father came around expressing concern. Now, I know it's harmless, and I know you would never overstep, but I simply can't ignore your father's worry." He let that sink in. Tim was downright hyperventilating right now, something Jason would have liked to do if it didn't look suspicious. "I think, for now, it's best that you and your family stay away. I hope you understand Tim. From my point of view if nothing else."

Tim didn't say anything else, just nodded and, after a while, walked away. It was the silent goodbye he never could have hoped for, and one he thanked as he climbed back up to see Dick prying rat poison from Damian.

The next few days Jason didn't spare a thought for Tim. Jack maybe late at night, but for the most part Jason was too concerned with Damian to think of anything else. 

They took Damian over to the orphanage the next morning. It took some time between Jason trying to shower again with his ribs and Damian pitching a fit about the socks he was wearing. They got there eventually, Dick taking Damian over to Colin as soon as they walked in.

The nuns, barely taking their eyes off Dick, eventually negotiated a schedule for Jason to work with. It didn't even take that long, and with Damian reunited with Colin Jason had no qualms leaving the kid there and taking Dick back to the church.

They didn't do much, Jason still on his recovery week, but the time alone helped Dick calm from the front he'd been putting on around Damian. Eventually, the two of them settled down with Jason's wallet to see what they could cut for Dick's lessons. Tim's supplies would last them a while longer, which meant Jason merely had to watch the food expenses, something much harder with another mouth to feed.

"At least Damian hasn't been asking for sweets," yet. The kid hadn't really cottoned on to what he did or didn't like. Jason was just waiting for that to happen. He imagined Damian would be just as demanding as he usually was, no asking nicely at all.

Still, with Damian needing to be fed as well that meant Jason only had enough money for three lessons instead of five when Dick's ran out. 

"It'll be okay," Jason said, knowing that after those three Dick might not get any more.

They picked Damian up when scheduled. Colin seemed as reluctant to let Damian go as he did his cowboy hat, clinging to Damian with false promises of playing all night until Jason said they would be back tomorrow.

Damian back at the church Jason was on high alert. No sooner had they stepped inside did Damian run to his favourite spot on the table and unloaded everything he'd stole from the nuns.

It only got worse from there. He had to stop Damian destroying three of Jason's possessions before bedtime. As soon as the kid was asleep Jason decided Dick was taking mornings, since there was no way Jason was doing this the whole time they had the little demon.

Dick had progressively more luck in the morning with Damian than Jason. He did the morning after too. Turned out it was just Jason the kid was difficult for, and he wasn't really difficult, more like he was seeing how much exploration he could get away with before Jason quarantined him somewhere.

The Saturday Dick took Damian to his trapeze lesson, Jason dutifully following as well when Dick swore he wasn't leaving without him. Despite the boredom Jason was more than happy sitting there watching. Yes, he had to stop Damian from climbing up after Dick and dive bombing, but he'd prefer that to sitting at home wondering if a creak was Jack back again.

Dick was on cloud nine when they walked home. With Damian walking between them Jason could just imagine them as a dream he'd once had when he was younger. A better life than the one he had. One where he had someone who tolerated him on his arm and a kid they loved between them.

The dream left when they passed the next streetlight. The someone who tolerated him becoming Dick and the kid between them Damian who was currently running away-

"Damian!"

Jason tried to chase after him, getting five steps before stopping as his body protested. Dick didn't even bother going after the kid.

"Damian can make his own way back," Dick promised, helping Jason catch his breath and start on home again.

They got in five minutes before a black mass drifted in with something barking in tow. 

"No," Jason said just as Damian dropped a barking dog on the floor. "No come on." It was bad enough with Damian, there was no way he was having a dog as well. If that even was a dog.

Damian materialised, sitting next to the big mass of matted fur. "I'm keeping him."

"No you are not," Jason started. 

"You can not tell me what to do priest!"

"The hell I can't. Now you listen here Damian Wayne, I don't care if you're the devil himself you are not keeping that thing in here. I don't have the money for it and we certainly don't have the room."

Damian hissed, his little green flames coming out as he stared Jason down. 

It wasn't that Jason had anything against the dog personally, but he really didn't have the money to keep it. 

Dick drifted in when the dog barked again. He took one look at the scene, put his hands on his hips and completely betrayed Jason. "Okay little D. You wanna keep this thing you gotta look after it. I don't want to hear one word of you putting Jason out. You feed it, you clean it, you walk and play with it or so help me I'll send you back to your father."

Damian shrunk down but nodded, clutching the beast close as he towed the struggling thing over to the bathroom for a wash. 

Jason rounded on Dick as soon as Damian was out of sight. "No. Dick, we can't keep it."

Dick turned his big blue eyes on Jason. "Whatever happened to helping everyone and anyone?"

Jason bared his teeth but had nothing to really say to that. "We don't have the money. Not if you even want those three lessons."

"Which is why Damian is going to be feeding and looking after the dog." And when Dick said it like that it sounded so agreeable.

"We'll see," Jason said. Not believing for one moment Damian was going to be a responsible owner. The kid couldn't even look after himself.

 The dog, when it came out the bathroom, seemed to be some sort of monster dog. It was big, like huge, with completely dark fur. Damian loved him. As soon as the dog stopped growling at Dick Damian sat the two of them on Jasom's table, the wood creaking dangerously as Damian said, "His name is Titus."

Jason just tried to ignore the two of them as he got ready for bed.

Titus, actually, was a friendly thing around the church. Well, when Dick wasn't there he was. He didn't greed, he didn't bark. He always told Jason when Damian was up to something which was a plus and when the nuns let Damian bring Titus around the dog became better than the toys.

Damian too, surprised Jason. He was almost normal with Titus. Yes,he stole the food he brought up, and the toys, but Damian took his duties as Titus' trainer very seriously. He claimed it was so he could make the ultimate hell hound. Jason thought Damian was just enamoured and didn't know how to say it.

It was cute. It also kept Damian out of too much trouble. It got him out of the church on a Sunday too when Jason took Dick into the confessional booth for some airing of sins.

It was two weeks after Damian got Titus, a Sunday, Dick helping Jason get out of his stuffy robes when the church door opened. Tim slipped his way in, running the pews until he got close enough to pant, "The police are coming."

Jason had heard that phrase enough to know to run without question. He made it to the back and out the door as the sound of sirens started. He would bet anything this is the fastest the police had ever responded to something concerning the narrows.

Titus started barking just as he got out of earshot. He knew the route of these alleys by heart, it was second nature to scale the walls and chain link fences until he got to his old haunts. No one spared him a look as he passed them. It was the way of this part of the world to ignore anything and everything suspicious.

He made it to one of the abandoned apartment complexes. There were people inside, drug addicts and homeless people that Jason saw on the streets when he made his rounds. 

He holed himself in a corner of his own, kept his head down and wiled away the hours.

Dick found him eventually. He came in like the demon he was, the people inside scrambling away in fear as Dick cut a path through them. Jason didn't worry about them telling, half of them would put it down to a hallucination anyway.

They all turned their heads away when Dick came near, the privacy welcome as the demon pulled Jason up and out of the decrepiy building.

"The police have left," Dick said a few blocks down. "They asked many questions."

"Don't tell me, they think I raped Tim." It was obvious. Jason knew from the moment he saw the kid, just the plain fear and guilt on his face said everything.

"Yes. How did you know?"

Jason shrugged. "Magic." Dick didn't look too dishevelled. The cops must not have kept Dick long. "What did you tell them?"

"I told them that Tim has never touched you. Also about his father."

Jason narrowed his eyes, the way Dick worded that rubbing him the wrong way. "What did you say about his father?"

Dick seemed to see his error as he sped up slightly.

Jason caught up easily, his legs longer than Dicks. "Richard you tell me right now what you said about Jack Drake."

Dick kept quiet a few more blocks before muttering, "Everything."

Jason had to brace himself against a wall. Dick had told them everything. That didn't just mean what happened in the church, when Dick said everything he meant everything. Confessional confessions included. 

"What about Tim?" Jason asked, sparing one last thought before the spiralling started.

"He did not seem surprised. He actually had his notebook with him. It had your blood in it Jason." He hadn't known that. He hadn't even checked. He'd just picked it up off the floor and never spared it a second look. "Apparetly he had asked his father about what happened to you and they had an argument. Tim left just as Jack called the police."

"Damn it."

Dick helped him a few more streets before the church came in sight. There didn't seem to be any cars lying in wait. Dick wouldn't have lied to him either. If he went back he would be alright.

"What did they say?" Jason asked, standing in front of the big oak doors. "Before they left. Did they say they were coming back?"

Dick shrugged. "I wasn't listening. They did say they were going to be seeing Jack though."

One silver lining at least. Or, it would be if Jason didn't know what was to come.

He didn't know what to do the rest of the day. He kept expecting the cops to break the door down. He couldn't think properly, knowing that everything was going to come out. Everyone would know. Everyone would know about what he used to do, who he used to be. They would label him before they got to know him. He was going to be destroyed.

No more funding. Jason could wave goodbye to any money from up high. He was surprised they hadn't called yet, they had to get themselves involved when incidents like this happened. No one would come to his church anymore. He wouldn't be able to walk the streets, to be alone. There would be a lynch mob always waiting out his door.

"Jason," Dick appeared in front of him, holding both his wrists, there was a line of red on Jason's arm, right where his mom had injected him. "Come on, just sit. We need to plan for the kids meal on Tuesday."

Jason felt a laugh bubble out of him. "Dick those kids aren't coming."

"Why? Did the sisters call?" 

Jason shook his head, "They're just not coming."

He took a bath, his skin crawling at the prospect of being dragged into this. He hadn't wanted much out of life. He wanted to eat, help his mom, keep her happy. He wanted to stay alive and help people, and now he was sitting in a bathtub, a fallen angel creeping ever closer and a half demon trying to train his dog to sit in the other room. It was beyond laughable.

Dick shucked his clothes, jumping in and curling himself up on Jason's body. He kept his arms above water at least, twining his arms around Jason's neck. 

"If I hadn't told them about Jack, what would they have done to you?"

Jason shifted, getting a bit more comfortable. "Arrested me. Charged me. I'd probably get a few months in prison, there's no way the church would bail me out." He wasn't a high profile priest. Not one in the upper districts. Even in the priesthood he was no one. "After that, probably a monastery where no one knows my name. A forced vow or silence. One of the only good things about the priesthood is that they can't expel you."

Dick didn't say anything for a while, wrapping his head around what all that meant. "It's good that I told them, right?"

"Honestly? I don't know." Both options were bad. Whether this option was better than the other remained to be seen.

The bath was okay. Dick got a bit restless after a while which started to worry Jason, but nothig came of it. Namely because Damian near burst down the door to demand Jason pay attention to him.

The nudity didn't bother the kid, which was somewhat disturbing. But the kid did turn around when Jason asked so it wasn't too unnerving just yet. 

When they did relocate to the living room, Jason still expected any moment to turn and see cops waiting to take him away. There weren't any yet. Just Damian and dutiful Titus ordering Jason to a chair and Dick to stop frightening their hell hound.

Dick pouted, dragging the kid into a big hug to annoy him before perching beside Jason. "Okay little D. What's wrong?"

Jason expected a roll of questions about what the police were and if Damian could have a gun. It wouldn't surprise him. Instead, Damian said, "I have been doing some thinking about what you said to me the night Titus joined our ranks priest. I wish to know more about this Wayne you paired my title with."

"You wanna know about your name?" Jason clarified. "Today of all days."

"Well," Damian sniffed, casting a look up and down Jason's person. "I know that when the people with those badges come I usually don't see their victims again. Since you are their victim this time I thought it a good idea to get my answers before they fall from my grasp forever."

"Dami-"

"Not now Dick," Damian shot down. "I know for a fact if I asked you I would not get my answers. So, priest..."

Jason shot a look to Dick, the demon sending him a helpless look in return. "Well, it's your name. Your last name. Your dads last name."

Damian looked over to Dick like he thought Jason was making it up. Dick nodded. "I do not understand. I thought demons did not have last names, only humans."

Dick took this one saying, "Well, Dami, your mom's human. So, technically you can have a last name."

Damian frowned, "Should it not be Al Ghul then? Why is it Wayne?"

"Because your dad's last name is Wayne and usually the child takes the fathers last name."

It was a long night explaining to Damian about his Wayne heritage. One made worse by the fact that Dick had to pretend to be proud of his accomplishment turning a human into a demon. The only good part was Jason forgetting for a while about what happened with Tim. The bad was,at the end, Damian disappeared without a word to either of them.

Dick didn't seem too concerned, back in his self pity party. Jason tried not to be either, but as he curled up in bed, Damian's still empty at the edge of the room and Titus on the floor, he hoped, wherever Damian was, he was okay.

Dick, sometime in the night, had curled his wings around Jason, the feathers, come morning, tricking Jason's sleepy brain into thinking it was still night. It was probably why, when he answered the knock on his door he was less polite than usual. 

Jason just hoped the cops on the other side understood when they asked him to come down to the station.


	6. Chapter 6

Every inch of Gotham's Police station reeked of corruption. Just stepping inside told him how this was going to go. 

Already, the cops had made their minds up. More than half the people they passed looked like they would spit on him if given half a chance. He was put in a room Jason would just bet they'd chosen because they'd dug up his file. It was the exact same one he was always brought into. The one with the chipped mirror that always let in some sound.

Jason would bet anything that they would have gotten the same cop to deal with him too if the guy hadn't already been ancient when Jason was a kid. Hopefully the guy was retired, otherwise Jason would be fending off unwanted propositions in exchange for his freedom. While he wanted to go home without a stain on his soul, he didn't want to do it that way again.

He tried to blink away the sleep the hour they let him stew. It was fear tactics right now. Get Jason to question what they would do to him, how far they would go for a confession. It had only worked the first time for Jason. Afterwards, and after he'd nearly drowned himself to get rid of the taste, his mom schooled him about how to escape getting booked.

It was a little over an hour before the cop in charge of his case came in like clockwork. Two steaming mugs were set on the table in front of him, the good cop approach first then.

"Hello Mister Todd, my names is James Gordon. I'll be the one speaking to you today." Until Jason didn't give him what he wanted and another cop took over.

"You already know my name," Jason said, watching as a packed file joined the mugs.

The file opened, mug shots of a cocky grin and dead eyes littering the first few pages. Jason needed a new pose, maybe take a page from those models Dick keeps pointing out on the magazines.

Gordon filtered through Jason's file. A show, really. Every cop that came in had always read Jason's file off by heart before they even met him. They needed to in order to try and catch him out. This, here, was just another way to put Jason off guard.

Sure enough, Gordon whistled when he got to the end, the file closed and put between them, like Jason could look at it if he wanted. He'd made that mistake before, curiosity getting the best of him and getting socked across the face as a result. "This is quite a file Mister Todd. Very incriminating."

"Shouldn't I have a lawyer?" He knew his rights, not that it had ever helped him before.

Gordon appraised him for a while, "You think you need one?"

"I know how things work."

Gordon gave him a look like he was sure Jason did know. "But, as you're probably aware, no one has actually told you your rights. This isn't an arrest Jason. Just a friendly chat."

Jason, wonderful, they were on first name terms now. "If this is such a friendly chat then why did they put you on the case? I know for a fact you work homocide, kidnappings if it comes to it. But rape? Nah, this isn't your jurisdiction."

Gordon looked impressed at least. "True. And you are right. But Mr Drake insisted on the best for his case, and since every other cop in this place wants to see you go down I would be thankful a cop like me is giving you a chance to explain yourself."

"I want my lawyer."

Gordon huffed, leaning slightly over the table, his eyes flitting to the mirror. A tell if nothing else that there was someone else just waiting to come in. "Jason listen, you're a smart boy. You gotta know that as soon as I call a lawyer for you it's going to look like you have something to hide. They're going to arrest you, you're going to be put on trial and any hope of this blowing over is gone."

Gordon sounded so sure of himself. But even he had to know that their friendly chat would end up in an arrest at the end. Jason had too much in his past for Gordon to dismiss. The prostitution alone would require a thorough investigation. Especially equipped with the sudden influx of supplies Tim brought with him to the church. If Jason was willing to sell himself for money, when a kid with more cash than sense came knocking it was a no brainer what could have went down.

"This isn't going to blow over," Jason said. "I want my lawyer."

They arrested him. Fingerprints were taken anew since Jason hadn't been arrested since he was fourteen. Another mugshot was added to his file, Jason thanking God he wasn't wearing his collar since the media would get their hands on that by noon.

It took three hours for a lawyer to be found. Namely, and stupidly, because Gordon had gotten in contact with Jason's superiors and thought they would like to make the arrangements. They did not, so Jason got one provided to him by the state instead.

When his lawyer did come, Jason didn't have high hopes for him. The guy looked like he'd never gotten into an argument in his life. He hadn't even read Jason's file beforehand, just came in, took one look and told Jason he should have been more choosy where he stuck his cock.

It went downhill from there. Gordon got caught up in a Joker raid which meant that Jason got stuck with another, less sympathetic, cop doing his initial interview. He asked nothing about the allegations against Jack, seeming to want Jason to focus on just how he'd managed to groom Tim. Nevermind that Tim was legally of age, or that Jason was barely three years older, Jack had been insistent that Tim had been taken advantage of and that was what they were staying with.

Despite Jason's truly horrendous lawyer, the guy told him to confess for God's sake, he managed to hold his ground. Unfortunately, since bail was out of the question, Jason was put in the holding cells while the cops came up with another plan of attack.

The criminals inside with him had the sense to keep to themselves. He recognised half of them as people he'd tried to help, or those who sometimes came in on a Sunday when they were feeling particularly guilty. They feared enough for their immortal souls to rough up the priest next to them.

Still, Jason didn't give them reason to change that opinion if he could help it and found himself a nice corner to sit himself down in.

The hours passed, sleep definitely not coming to him in here. Jason watched the bullpen, hoping distantly that he would see Jack being dragged in too. But, alas, no sign of him appeared. No one but the usual murderers, thieves and Joker lackeys.

It must have gotten dark, the day shift switching to night, and most of them being called out as the Joker situation intensified.

There was a twitch amongst the criminals next to him, all of them crowding near the bars. Jason worried for only a moment before he realised what was going on. In an instant, the space before Jason darkened, solidifying to show an unhappy demon.

"You should be back at the church," Jason said.

"So should you," Dick countered. "What's taking so long? I thought you would be back by now."

Sometimes Jason forgot that Dick didn't know much about the ways of the human world. He was just as lost as Damian really. "When you get arrested, that means that they bring you here and maybe keep you until trial. The trial I guess is kind of like what happened to you, but we go to prison instead. So, we're locked up. No going back to the church for me."

Dick looked horrified. Rightly so if Dick's trial was half as corrupt as Jason's was going to be. "What if I get you out. We can go away. Somewhere they can't get you."

"Dick," he cut off before Dick could actually snatch him. "You know that I can't run away. It's not right." Even if he did want to go away with Dick and forget he'd ever even heard of Gotham. "I have to have faith that things will turn out okay. If I don't then I'll be turning my back on what God wants, and then how can I help you?"

The criminals tried to climb the bars at the growl Dick let out. He wondered if they even knew what they were running from. "This isn't fair."

"It doesn't matter. What does is that you keep on the path you're on." He may as well make these plans now. Dick needed to be let loose on the world sooner or later. Jason was always supposed to be a temporary crutch. The angels had gotten in contact because Dick was on the right path. They probably would again if Dick, independently, proved that he was capable of keeping himself good. "Now, mass will probably be taken over by another priest. You'd best stay out their way, they won't be as understanding as me. The rooms above the church will be given over to them too so you'll have to find somewhere else to stay on nights. The charities I'm sure you can still continue with. They know your name, your face, so it won't be too difficult in taking charge. I guess the main thing is your trapeze lessons. My wallet is in the wardrobe, just use whatever's in for however many you can afford, I doubt I'll be needing money for a while."

Dick blinked at him for a while, not making a move to get everything in place, despite their window being very small. The new priest was probably already on route.

"Dick, go. It's okay. Oh, and make sure Damian's okay. I do not trust that kid on his own." He hoped Damian was back for Dick to grab. All Jason needed was the kid turning up when the new priest arrived.

"Why are you sounding like you're leaving me?"

"Dick." He waved his arms around, the cell he was in pretty self explanatory. Or, he thought it was, but Dick just kept staring at him. "I can't help you in here Dick. I can't do the charities, or keep you locked up at night."

"Why?"

"Dick, you know why."

Dick shook his head. "No. No. Jason you can't push me away. You can't! I- I can't do this. You don't know how hard it is. You-"

"You're right, I don't. But I do know that you can do this. You're so close to everything you want, and I know you don't need me anymore. You've not for a while."

Dick kept shaking his head, panic overcoming his demeanor. Jason had never thought before about the affect that Dick's moods had on people. Jason had been with Dick for so long now that he'd grown used to the background wrongness that emanated from the demon. The criminals however, were screaming, practically clawing whoever came near. The cops had taken note, some of them threatening violence if the cells didn't calm down.

Jason did his best to stop Dick from making it worse. It was hard, Dick was barely listening, and eventually he just disappeared altogether. The criminals calmed instantly, those not recovering from new wounds self inflicted or otherwise were left shaken on the floor. Jason saw a few even crying, and not one of them looked Jason's way the rest of the night.

Morning came with a brief reprieve with his lawyer. The guy was still trying to get Jason to just confess and get a lower sentence. Not because he cared, he just didn't want to defend Jason at trial.

They were back in the interview room, Jason resigned to a morning with no breakfast when Gordon popped his head in.

"Good," he greeted. "Thought for a moment they would try and give me the wrong room." He set up much the same as yesterday, only this time there was a tape recorder to catch everything Jason said. Coffee was nudged over to him, Jason taking it gladly as Gordon started sifting through Jason's file again. When he finished, he spread his arms and said, "Well, this is what you wanted. Can we talk now?"

"You can. I'll see how I feel."

It was good enough for Gordon, even if Jason's lawyer looked like he wanted to slap Jason. 

They started on the same questions as yesterday. When did Jason first meet Tim? What was their relationship? Did Jason understand the allegation brought against him?

He answered them all as honestly as he could, Gordon, unlike the cop yesterday seeming satisfied with Jason's responses.

"Jason, do you have any idea why Jack Drake would accuse you of raping his son?"

Jason shrugged, "Nope."

"Did you?"

"No." Jason said for what felt like the fiftieth time. "For God's sake I took a vow of chastity. I don't want anyone to touch me like that anymore."

Gordon perked up at that. "Don't suppose you have anyone who can vouch for this vow?"

Jason gave the name of the priest who trained him. But, he didn't have high hopes the guy would remember. Vows were just something people did in the church, no one but the person who made them really kept track of them. Also, it was just the way Jason's luck ran that he would be forgotten in this respect as well.

They went into other things. The specifics of Jason's vow, why he made it, and whether he'd broken it in the years of service. It was the hesitance of deciding whether to lie on this question that had Gordon zeroing in again.

He pursed his lips, pulling a few different pages out of the file before starting again. "Jason, I'm sure you're aware that, despite your claims of being... chaste," and yeah, Jason could see why Gordon stuttered over that word. It was Gotham after all, "numerous witnesses have claimed you to be seen with a man. Some even saying he's your lover."

"Dick isn't my lover." The truth. Even with their arrangement Jason had never stepped over that line. He wouldn't. Not for himself or Dick.

"Dick, short for Richard?" Gordon was getting witness material. Wonderful.

"I think so," Jason lied.

"You think?"

He tried to remain calm about it. The last thing he needed was an inquiry into Dick. That wouldn't go well for anyone. "That's what he told me his name was. Whether it really is I don't know."

"Did you ask?" Like it was that simple.

Jason shrugged, "It didn't seem relevant."

Gordon penned a few things down. Hopefully Dick would be out of the church by now. Damian too. "So, you and this Dick aren't involved?"

Jason shook his head.

Gordon harrumphed. "You can see why I'm having a hard time believing you Jason. All these people after all, say you are. You wouldn't be lying to me to save him would you?"

"Dick is not my lover."

"Then what is your relationship with him? We have witnesses saying you live together, and when seen together it does not come across as platonic. They also tell me that Dick's younger brother, even a dog, has moved into your apartment. Seems pretty strange for merely a platonic relationship."

Gordon didn't know the half of it.

"I'm helping him. He had nowhere to go, and in exchange for board he's been helping me with my projects. I was merely trying to help someone who needed it." Which, again, was true. 

Gordon seemed a bit disbelieving, asking if he said the same thing to Dick that the man would have the same response. But, overall, there was nothing really to poke holes in. It wasn't uncommon for the church to get a few lodgers, Dick was just one in a long line. The charity work as well, especially with Damian being so close to Colin made sense. Nothing unusual.

"So, to be clear, nothing is or has went on between yourself and Dick?"

"Nothing," Jason promised.

"Then why did you hesitate when I asked you about your vow of chastity?"

His lawyer was beyond useless. Ordinarily, Jason wouldn't have had to answer half the questions he did, yet, here they were. He didn't even have the decency to bring up the other aspect of this case, which meant it was down to Jason.

"I hesitated because I was taken advantage of a few weeks ago." It burned coming out of his mouth. Like he'd never even tried to be better than what he was. He knew it was wrong, but some part of him wished that Dick had kept his mouth shut. This, what he's accusing Jack of doing, would be what ruined him.

Gordon nodded, pulling another sheet out. "Yes, we got that statement from Dick yesterday, as well as some suspicions from Tim Drake. Yet, Jason you must understand how this looks. If you had come forward after it happened-"

Arguing cut Gordon off, some kind of scuffle coming from outside the door before Jason was looking at a suit that cost more than everything in this room. 

"Mr Gordon, I would thank you not to ask my client any more questions before I speak with him in private," the man said. 

He didn't look familiar at all. No one from the Narrows, that was for sure, and since Jason knew no one from the upper districts save the Drakes, it took him a moment to realise the guy was here to represent Jason.

Jason's former lawyer took off as fast as he could. He didn't even pass over noted, not that he'd made any. Words were shared, and then Gordon was leaving, looking just as confused as Jason felt.

Alone, or at least, Jason thought they were alone, the new guy got down to business. He was much more proficient than the last. For one, he didn't tell Jason to just say he did it. The guy actually told Jason to hang in there, that he'd make sure he did everything possible to help Jason out.

He took notes, looked over the casefile, and within an hour had the beginning of a defence set up. He was gone for a moment to demand the tapes for reviewing, and when he came back had a list of questions Jason should steer clear of if he hadn't already answered them.

"Why are you doing this?" Jason had to ask.

"It's my job Mister Todd," the guy answered, as sunny as he had been from the start.

"I don't have any money," Jason pointed out.

"Well, my employer does, and he told me to tell you not to worry about it."

Right, that made, absolutely no sense. "Who's your employer?"

The guy smiled, the look a bit off even for Gotham standards, "Thomas Wayne of course."

Damian. He should have known. If Dick hadn't made a request, the idea of Titus being put out onto the streets would have spurred the kid on to do something about it.

Later, Jason would worry about the implications of this. About how Bruce was bound to find out Damian had spoken on behalf of Jason as well as Dick. Jason had a death warrant, one just waiting to be picked up. But that was later. Right now, he was just pleased he might actually get out of this place.


	7. Chapter 7

Jason spent another night in the holding cells, his lawyer determined to get everything prepared before their next interview. Jason didn't mind too much. For one, the criminals that had shared a cell with him yesterday seemed to have spread the news about something being off with Jason. For another, some people today actually recognised him. Hookers, sure, but Jason had ran with a few of them once, and later was the only priest that would let them inside his church. Those people had nothing but kind words for him.

He didn't sleep again that night. Something about arguing and cops battering the bars didn't allow for a soothing atmosphere.

The next morning, Jason got some more one on one time with his lawyer, the guy, unlike the last one, looking, if possible, more confident than yesterday.

"You'll be pleased to know Gordon's bringing Jack and Tim in today. If you ask me that should have been one of the first things they did. But, who am I to complain, this is just another way of prooving the incompetence of the GCPD."

"And that's a good thing?" Jason asked.

His lawyer smiled, far too wide to be real, "That's a great thing Jason."

Gordon was their interviewer again. He relayed the same news about Jack that Jason's lawyer did, telling them that a cop named Montaya was taking over his proceedings. Another trustworthy cop apparently. 

They went back over the usual questions once again, Jason giving the same answers as he did before. This time, thankfully, when they got to questions about Jason's relationship with Dick and Damian, Jason's lawyer stepped in and got them back on the topic of Tim and Jack.

"... I mean really, can we even be asking Jason about the events if they haven't happened?" Jason's lawyer went on. "When Jack Drake rang you did I bet he didn't give a specific date or time when this supposed rape has happened? What's more, your police officers, instead of getting a statement from Tim immediately, as they should have, took my client in and attempted to get him to admit to an event you don't know about and that might not even have happened at all."

Jason tuned out the rest of their talk. It wad just what he'd been arguing from the start. That there was no evidence, no confession and no statement from Tim to incriminate Jason. What they did have were blood stains, and when Jason told his lawyer yesterday about a cupboard full of bloody water filled buckets and questionably stained sponges that would, if tested, prove to belong to Jack and Jason. There were also the fading bruises Gordon could see in front of his eyes.

With that in motion now, Jason was asked a whole hoard of other questions he really didn't want to relive. He was told he'd done good when it was over. His lawyer had high hopes that if Tim backed up Jason's claim that nothing iinappropriate went on between them then Jason would be free to go home.

He was still kept in the cells. The afternoon was long, spent mainly watching people come in and out of the GCPD. At one point, Jason had to shrink from the bars himself, the criminals coming with him as the Joker was brought kicking and screaming over to them.

She was given a cell of her own, beaten bloody from no doubt the cops hands. She didn't fight when she got in, just stood there and laughed. 

Jason knew that in front of him was a woman who'd done terrible things. Her crimes in Gotham were appalling to even the hardened criminal. But Jason had spent the last year around a real monster, this woman in front of him, once upon a time, would have scared him stupid. Right now, she barely ranked top three.

The Joker, thanks to reluctance on the GCPD's part, was stuck next to them for three hours before she was processed. The whole time she was there she laughed, sneering at anyone who looked her in the eye. Until something strange happened. To anyone else, they wouldn't be able to spot it. The Joker drew the eye so much it was hard to concentrate on anything else. But Jason had been around Dick so long now his eye immediately went to the difference in the room, regardless of what was going on. To him, demons were much more dangerous than anything humanity could throw at him. So, when the shadows at the back of the cell seemed to stretch, Jason noticed. 

He also noticed the drastic change in the Joker. For a moment, the laughing stopped, then, when it started again it sounded more like weeping. 

Jason thought for a moment Dick was back. It wouldn't surprise him, and quite frankly Jason could use the familair face. But the shadow didn't materialise into Dick. Instead, it floated along the ground, the Joker slumping until she was laughing, stroking the patterns the shadow made. For just a second, when the Joker trailed her fingers over a circle, a beady eye looked up at her, one Jason knew. He felt himself stepping back, almost scrambling for the opposite bars himself. They weren't the blues of Dick's, the ones Jason had looked into so much over these months. Nor were they Damian's glaring greens. That, right there was Bruce, and last time they had met Jason had almost suffocated.

The shadow stayed as long as the Joker did, following her as she was led away to the deeper parts of the GCPD. Unlike last time, where she struggled as much as she could, she went quietly, staring at the shadow no one else noticed as she went.

Jason didn't breathe until they got out of sight, the cells deathly quiet now the Joker was gone. Jason didn't think he could survive here. Not if Bruce knew where he was, that was saying if he didn't already know. God, he was probably coercing the Joker right now to bomb this whole place.

Jason knew he was shaking, panicking almost, along with the rest of the people in here. But unlike them he actually had reason to be scared.

Morning was a long way off, and one Jason wasn't sure he was ever going to make. Yet, it came and Jason was surprised when, at ten exactly, Gordon came around and let him out.

Like out, out. 

At eleven, once Jason had his personal possessions handed back, he was a free man. A very confused, very unnerved free man.

"Are you sure?" Jason asked, positive his luck wasn't that good.

"Some new evidence came up," Gordon said. "Some very incriminating evidence you better thank the Bat for."

"The Bat?" He didn't think the guy cared. He certainly hadn't before.

Gordon nodded anyway, retreating back inside.

The Bat and Thomas Wayne, either Jason was finally getting a win or something else was going on. Something Jason didn't think too much about as he booked it back to the church.

The new guy hadn't even made it. Instead, there was a note Dick had jotted down about the guy bottling out at the last minute on the door to Jason's rooms. When he got upstairs, the apartment was a mess again. The food he'd bought was off, some of it even covered in mould, his clothes were out the dresser and scattered everywhere. Furniture was overturned and muddy paw prints roaming everywhere.

He got a headache just thinking about the clean up. 

The demons themselves were nowhere to be found as Jason showered and napped the stress of the last few days from himself. When he woke however, he was sure he was hallucinating. For one, his room was clean when before it had been a bomb sight. For another, Damian was colouring like a normal kid his age on the floor next to his bed.

"Damian?"

The kid looked up, nodding once as he called for Dick. "I feared you were dead priest. Not for myself, but Dick has been inconsolable since you left."

"Right," Jason murmured as Dick rounded the corner with an apron Jason vaguely remembered buying on and a tray of what looked like soup in his hands. 

"Good, you're awake" Dick set the tray down next to Jason, the contents sure enough soup, but not any Jason had ever seen before. A spoon was put into Jason's hand, Dick settling in next to him, "Dig in. It's my own recipe. A special blend of lentil and pigs blood."

"Okay, I'm not dreaming this." Since dream Dick would have stolen him some chicken instead of trying to cook. Especially after the last time he'd attempted it. "And I am not eating this. Pigs blood Dick? Pigs blood?"

"Humans can consume pigs blood. I looked it up," Dick defended.

Definitely not a dream. "Of course you did."

He gave the bowl to Damian, the kid swallowing it down no problem. Jason, on the other hand, ventured out his room for something more substantial and hopefully not mouldy.

Dick followed, babbling behind Jason about making the place homey again. "I even replaced the food," Dick chirped. "I mean, it was kind of my fault it went off, so, it was the least I could do."

The apartment had been cleaned, the reason for it being so filthy in the first place being the police raiding it and then Dick making it unlivable for the next priest to try and stay here. Jason gave Dick a look for the second reason, but couldn't be too upset since it meant his stuff was still here. 

When Jason managed to find something to munch on, he went to his phone to see just what kind of damage had been done. There were fourteen missed calls from his superiors, the most recent this morning. When he finally got through to them, he had to go through the long and lengthy process of figuring out where he stood.

There was talk of a monastery, like he thought there would. But since Jason hadn't went down his superiors were on the fence about sending him there. After all, if this whole thing blew over and turned out to be false, like it hopefully was being now, then there was no reason to hide Jason away. 

In the end, they told him to stay put. At least for now. Until they knew for certain how he was going to be recieved in the community and his verdict from the cops they didn't feel the need to do anything drastic. But, they told him, he couldn't do anything until they did decide. No mass, no projects. He was to sit and twiddle his thumbs to his hearts content.

It was better than nothing.

Dick seemed especially pleased since it meant Jason had nothing to do but pay attention to him. Something Jason had to correct.

He did it while he checked on the state of the church. There was graffiti on some of the walls, none of it nice, and all of it in expensive paints and cursive. No one from the Narrows then.

Dick was hovering as Jason checked for missing artifacts, never far apart now he was back home. "You know this doesn't change anything, right Dick?"

"I know." Except he didn't. Just looking at the dumb smile on his face showed that Dick thought Jason's words the day before were just the words of a desperate man.

"You don't though. Yesterday, when I said I couldn't be your safety net anymore, I meant it. I'm not kicking you out, and I'm not saying I won't be here if you need me. But, you need to be independent. There's a reason you haven't heard anything else from up high and you know it."

"But, you're back."

"For now," Jason agreed. "And just because I am does not mean that I'm not right. You have to take charge of yourself. Make your own choices, not the ones I do. Dick, I am always here to help, but you know this is what you have to do."

Dick's face twisted, his body disappearing again, much like it did yesterday. Yet, when Jason went back up Dick was still there, hunched in a corner with Titus keeping a wide berth.

The afternoon was spent in mostly silence. Jason looked out for Damian when the kid tired of drawing, quite detailed, pictures of decapitations and tried stabbing his hand with a spoon. 

He made the kid something to eat when it got late enough, the two of them chewing on a pot roast when something out the window caught Jason's eye. 

He left Damian with a stern warning to behave, creeping down the stone steps until he got outside. His plan had been to creep around and hope for a glimpse of the shadow outside his room. Instead, as soon as he was outside, he was staring face to cowl with a man Jason had only heard from reputation.

He looked just as crazy as everyone in Gotham. The lower half of his face in scruff despite his suit being pristine. A man obsessed.

Jason cleared his throat, "I er, hear you're responsible for getting me out. Thank you."

The Bat didn't speak, but Jason hadn't expected him to.

He was tempted to leave it at that. The Bat didn't look like he was looking for a reward after all. Yet, "What did you give them?"

The red lenses seemed to glare into Jason's eyes, a look that would have been intimidating on anyone but Jason. After a moment of nothing, the Bat moved, reaching into one of his pouches to hand over a litter of photos.

Jack was on each of them, the only constant thing as the backgrounds and those he was with changed. Most of them had young girls in, all of them being raped. There wasn't any doubt about it. Jason was one of three boys in the stack, the image of him trapped between the pews sending his hand moving before he could think better.

The Bat mustn't have been expecting it anymore than Jason since his fist connected with the mans nose. Jason shook his fist off, the Bat stumbling a few steps as Jason went back to the photos. 

He handed them back when he was done, the Bat gingerly taking them back like he thought Jason was going to wallop him again.

"You know, you see something like that, you do something. You're dressed as a freaking bat, he probably would have ran at the sight of you." Or at least laughed long enough for Jason to use the reprieve to run. He sighed, sending the last of his frustration at the situation out into the air. Nodding to the photos he warned, "If Jack gets out, I'd keep an eye on his son. The people in there all resemble him, it's a pattern if I ever saw one." It made a bit more sense as to why Jason was targeted other than vulnerable and there. 

Every single one of Jack's victims looked like Tim. Some resentment either to himself or his son personifying into some need to dominate. Jason, without the white that curled in the front of his bangs would fall into that category too. Black hair, pale skin, blue eyes and young enough to be his son.

The Bat seemed surprised, putting the photos back with an approving slowness.

"Also," Jason remembered, since there was no way he could do so himself. "Could you tell Thomas Wayne thank you, for the lawyer? I er, I really needed help in there and he seemed to be the only one willing to give me a chance. Maybe tell him that I know he only did it because Damian asked, but, I appreciate it all the same."

"Damian?" It was the first thing the Bat had ever said, his voice gravelly from more than just unuse. Substance abuse Jason would guess, not putting it past even Gotham's somewhat hero. Hell, with everything he probably dealt with from Gotham's underworld he probably needed it.

"His grandson? I think he said something to Mr Wayne. Anyway, I'd better..." No doubt Damian was trying to kill himself somehow again.

He left the Bat, surprised when he closed the door to find him still standing there, his lenses staring at nothing.

Jason didn't pay too much mind to it. He had his answers. 

Damian was waiting by the door for him when Jason went up. He held up his hand immediately for inspection, a small paper cut dripping blood down his finger.

"Damian... what did you do?"

Nothing too drastic it turned out. Colin had apparently told Damian that when he did a good job with a picture, the nuns might hang it up on the fridge. Jason didn't have any magnets so Damian had tried using drawing pins, one of them bouncing off his fingers when it wouldn't penetrate the fridge.

Jason hung Damian's picture up on the wall instead, knowing with some time he would get used to seeing his own face being burnt alive while Dick and Damian watched. 

He sent the kid to wash up, doing so himself when the bathroom was half flooded. Dick was waiting for him when he got back to the bedroom, his wings opening up automatically to let Jason in.

Damian's bed had been moved back to the living room, the kid insisting because Titus wasn't feeling well tonight and he didn't want to walk the dog too far if he was sick. Jason still set alarms to check on the kid through the night, snuggling down when he was done to sleep for a full night without fear of what the next day would bring.

Dick slid down to the pillows with him, seeming to have recovered from his earlier tantrum.

Sure enough, after a while, Dick murmured, "You'll still be here if I need you?"

"Of course, as long as you need me, and as long as I'm able to."

Dick sighed behind him, his head resting in the nook of Jason's neck. It was as much as an acceptance he would ever get from Dick.

He woke in the morning to whispering over his head. Something heavy and breathing was on his legs. Dick's wings were gone as they always were when Damian was in the room. In its place were Dick's arms, warm and tight around Jason's middle.

"I think he is some kind of monster," Damian hissed.

"Well, I'll look into it. I promise Dami, no one's taking you back to hell."

Jason could feel the flinch Damian made, his voice as demanding as always with only a slight tremor betraying his fear, "I should think not. But Dick, this thing tried to grab me. It knew my name, father's too. What if father sent it to get me?"

Dick shook his head, his hair brushing against Jason's nose. "Dami, your dad will come get you himself, you know that. I'm sure this thing is just a prank or something."

Which made Damian flinch again. 

Jason pried his eyes open, Damian's foot right in his face. It took effort his body didn't want to make to twist himself enough to see Damian's face. "What's this about a monster?" Jason asked.

Damian scowled, Dick chuckling slightly behind him as he poked Damian's nose. "A big man with pointy ears accosted Damian last night when he took Titus out."

"It was a monster! It had red eyes. I fear it may have been a harpy."

"Wait," red eyes, pointy ears, "this thing have a cape?"

Damian sent a satisfied look Dick's way, "Yes priest, it did. See Dick, this thing is real."

"I never said it wasn't."

"It's not a monster," Jason butt in before an argument could break out. "It's just Batman."

Damian and Dick shared a look over Jason's head. "What is a bat man?" Damian asked.

Which was how Jason found himself explaining vigilantes and why they were needed to two confused demons.

"So it is not a monster?" Damian clarified around his toast.

"Chew," Jason ordered, "and no, he's not. He was just around last night because..." well, Jason didn't know why, he would like to think the guy was checking in but in Gotham you never knew. "He was just around. And I was the one who gave him your name before you start again."

Damian scowled at his toast like it had wronged him. "Why would you do that?"

"Because I wanted him to tell Thomas Wayne thank you. Yeah," he forgot yesterday with just getting back on track, "and thank you Damian. I know you didn't have to help. I want you to know I appreciate it."

Damian turned to Dick, "The priest is talking nonesense again. Fix him."

"I'm talking about asking your grandad for help," Jason said before Damian could ruin his thank you. "Really, I'd probably still be questioned if he didn't send someone."

Damian's frow deepened, "What are you talking about?"

The confusion was genuine, not just something Damian was doing to save face. "Wait, so you didn't go to Thomas Wayne?"

"Why would I?"

"But you disappeared after we told you about him." Jason had been sure. So sure, that Damian had put in a good word. 

"Yes, I grew bored and went to find Colin. We rescued some cats we're keeping in the attic of Colin's home." Aw, kind of cute. Worrying because Jason wasn't sure what Damian wanted with the cats, but he was sure Colin would steer Damian right.

"Oh no." If the bat did relay his message then Jason was going to have one pissed Thomas Wayne on his hands. One who, for the first time in Gotham's history, looked like he'd done something nice because he felt it was right.

Wonderful.


	8. Chapter 8

Dick looked like a lost puppy when Jason approached him at lunch.

All day he’d been hanging around the apartment, either doting on Jason or playing with Damian. If Jason hadn’t known that Dick was only doing this to avoid his responsibilities he would have been touched. It was kind of cute watching Damian try to figure out why Dick was being so nice to him. But Jason had to burst the bubble eventually, if only because Damian was starting to worry this attitude was Dick’s way of apologising for an impromptu trip to hell.

He handed Damian a sandwich, telling the kid to take Titus for a walk. Alone, with Dick now struggling to find something semi normal to distract himself with, Jason started the process of kicking Dick into motion.

“Alright, it’s been half the day, you’ve had time to think, now get out there and start working.”

As imagined, Dick turned his puppy dog eyes on. “Now?” he asked.

Jason nodded, “No time like the present.”

Dick cast a look to the door like he was imagining it would bite him. “But, I don’t know what to do. What if something goes wrong? What if I don’t do the right thing Jason?”

He sighed, grabbing Dick’s arm and gently towing him to the door. “Nothing will go wrong. You can do this Dick, I trust you.”

Dick turned before he could even touch the archway. “But what if there’s nothing to do? I mean, I can barely tell what’s right and wrong now. If I get out there Jason you could potentially be making things worse.”

True, and the thought had crossed Jason’s mind that this was in fact a bad idea. “You won’t,” he said despite his doubts. “I mean, this is Gotham. Trust me, your worse isn’t any more evil than whatever else this city can spew up.”

“You say that now,” Dick warned.

“I do, because I know, deep down, you’re capable of doing this.” He shoved Dick out before the demon could argue further.

With his back against the door, it took a solid three minutes before Jason trusted Dick not to run back in. Five, he strolled away himself and found something to busy his time with.

This time last week Jason had a number of things to keep him busy. He had projects, grievances, funerals and baptisms. Now, with the order to just sit put, he was finding himself at a loss what to do.

Before, with his mom, he’d never really had any free time. Free time was a luxury only the rich had he thought, Jason needing every second awake he had to work and help his mom out. Even reading, something he enjoyed, had been a means to an end. He’d found out quicker that some people liked it when an intellectual challenge presented itself along with a willing body. They felt less guilty if he wasn’t just some simpleton doing this because he didn’t understand. It had also been his way out, his one hope that if he just knew enough he could maybe apply himself for one of those fancy scholarships and never have to think about roaming the streets again.

Football had never held any interest for him, so he didn’t even think of seeing if he could catch some game online. Sports overall were merely a second thought. He could go for a run, he knew, it would be time consuming too, not to mention a way to get out of here and stretch his legs. But, the graffiti on the side of the church struck in his mind. Just because the Narrows hadn’t painted it didn’t mean that they would greet him with open arms.

The media was probably still all over Jason’s case. They were like dogs with a bone, they wouldn’t let go until everything had been stripped away. Jason did a little snooping down that avenue for a while before he turned away, almost sick with images that turned out not to have stayed purely in police custody.

Staying online would just tempt him further to see how they were portraying him, so, eventually Jason just sat there and waited for Damian to come back from his walk.

The kid took longer than Jason thought, strutting back in with Titus whining pitifully in his throat. They’d been to the orphanage to see Damian’s cats, Titus taking a liking to them. The dog was almost inconsolable the rest of the day as a result.

Damian on the other hand, shared none of Titus’ melancholy. After drawing Jason five detailed pictures of the cats Damian had rescued, the kid demanded that they head over to the grocery store.

“I require new supplies priest.” The pencils Jason had gave the kid almost run to the ground with Damian’s extracurricular activities with them.

“You require a cage,” Jason muttered, grabbing his wallet anyway. Maybe some paints would keep Damian quiet for a while. Non-toxic paints. Ones he wouldn’t have to be on the phone for three hours with a nurse for if Damian decided to swallow a tube.

Then again, charcoals were always nice.

He grabbed a hoodie before they left, keeping the hood up and his head low as they trailed over to the nearest store. Damian was almost as dangerous outside as he was in as they walked.

Before, with Dick next to him, Jason could be content with knowing that if Damian really was in trouble Dick would just bail him out. On his own, with Damian teetering dangerously close to traffic, Jason’s heart was having trouble beating regularly.

He ended up grabbing the kids hand, wondering if Damian was too old for one of those child leashes when it turned out he didn’t need one. Almost instantly, Damian started behaving. He kept close to Jason, their hands basically a dead weight now between them as the kid kept in step and away from any dangerous situations the world had to offer.

Jason thought it too good to be true that maybe Damian was finally starting to understand that things could kill him, and he was right. As soon as they turned the next corner, Damian pulled the both of them flat against the wall. Poking his little head around the corner, Damian didn’t move until a sleek black car crawled in front of them.

“Something wrong?” Jason asked.

Damian hummed, pulling them both onwards to the store.

Jason didn’t realise what had Damian bugged until he was paying for pastels, not charcoal since Damian proved immediately he couldn’t be trusted with them. The cashier handed over his bag, Jason taking it even as his eyes finally zoned in on the black car that had been following them since… well, he didn’t know.

Jason caught Damian immediately, pulling him back into the isles. He had an odd feeling about this, his brain questioning whether it was the cops keeping an eye on him now he was back into society. It surely wouldn’t look good if Jason was alone with Damian, and with that thought he remembered the articles he read earlier. A car like that looked like it came from money. A good enough reporter would be able to afford a car like that.

Either way, Jason was planning on avoiding their attention and getting back home as soon as he could.

He handed over Damian’s art supplies, tugging the kid further into the shop as he started giving him a lesson on how to avoid attention.

Strangely, instead of casting Jason’s advice off, Damian took his hand when prompted and walked on his best behaviour the whole way back. He said, later, that sometimes Jason had good advice, and by good advice Jason translated that into ways Damian could avoid being caught if he did something wrong. Either way, Jason was thankful that Damian just listened to him as the two of them set up a stake out from Jason’s window.

He wanted to say he wasn’t that invested in knowing who was inside the car, but, well, he had nothing better to do. They took the stake out in shifts, Damian proving that he could be still when he wanted to be when it came to his turn. Jason kept them fed, actually thankful that Dick had stocked his cupboards as they made their way through half the stolen junk food before nightfall.

“Perhaps it is a gangster,” Damian speculated, the game recently between them being who could come up with a more realistic scenario. “Dick says that they are rampant in Gotham, and I myself have seen the vehicles they ride.”

“Doesn’t explain what they want from me,” Jason pointed out.

Damian pouted for a while, his eyes never straying from the car still sitting outside their window. Finally, after a time, Damian continued with his theory. “Perhaps the gangster inside wishes your counsel. They do not want the attention of being seen with you and therefore are waiting until it gets dark enough to slip inside.”

“Interesting,” Jason agreed. He got up from his spot on the bed, not even bothering to hide his presence as he looked out the window now. They’d learnt a while ago that the car knew they were watching. It either didn’t care or wasn’t planning on revealing themselves since they hadn’t drove off yet. “What do you think they want my counsel for?”

Which led to Damian describing some rather realistic and gruesome scenes Jason wished he could scrub from his mind.

It was eight before something happened. Not with the car, as much as Jason would have liked that to be the case. Instead, on the dot, Dick came back from his wanderings.

He looked… tense, not speaking a word to them for a while as he simply lay like a diva on Jason’s bed.

Jason didn’t pry. He wanted to, by God he wanted to, but this was Dick’s journey, not his own. If Dick wanted counsel he would give it, but until then Jason had to wait for his information. He couldn’t be interfering, giving his opinions on what Dick could have done better. It wasn’t his place. Not anymore. Dick had to be the one to figure out what was right and wrong in this world.

So Jason turned back to his stakeout.

It turned into a pattern of sorts over the next few days. Dick would leave in the mornings. Well, Jason would push him out, and then Damian and him would retreat back to the window to watch the car that never moved. For three days no one came in or got out of that car. Jason was starting to wonder if he should offer up his downstairs bathroom, knowing for a fact that bottles could only hold one type of leavings.

Damian nuked this idea as soon as Jason brought it up. “Are you addled priest?” he’d snapped, “we are smoking him out. You offering comfort will probably just drive them away. We must wait, and when they tire of their metal box we will strike.”

Which led to Jason having a lengthy discussion on what they weren’t going to do when their stalker revealed themselves. Damian was quite put out after that talk.

It was on the fourth day, just as Jason got Dick out the door, that Damian make a startled shout from the bedroom. “Priest!” he ordered, Jason running before Damian finished.

While he had hoped that Damian’s shout meant their stalker had finally given up he found himself disappointed when he got to the window and the car was still there and still closed like usual. However, that wasn’t to say there weren’t any news. As soon as Jason’s disappointment dissipated he managed to see just what Damian had.

There, on the sidewalk looking up at them, was an old man. He looked spritely for his age, in shape under his pristine suit, with just a hint of weariness in the way he held himself that spoke of a long journey.

He stayed there, looking at them for a while, at least ten minutes, and long enough that Jason was starting to speculate whether it was a hitman in that car waiting for the old man to give the order. When the man did move it was with a tilt to his head that spoke of looking at them for as long as possible before he too was swallowed by the anonymity of the car.

“Gangster,” Damian declared proudly.

Jason hummed, wanting to tell the kid he was wrong. “Maybe,” he said instead, settling himself down with a bowl of fruit loops Damian kept stealing.

The old man stayed inside the car for three hours. When he got out, his body spoke of agitation, the car door slamming so loud it echoed up to Jason’s window. The man took a breath, the weariness settling back into his shoulders as he started for the front of the church.

Damian shot him a look, Jason not knowing himself what to do in this situation.

Some part of him hoped the old man would walk past the church, or, if he went inside, just sit in the pews and pray for a while like the rest of Gotham. Of course, Jason’s luck was never that good, and after a few minutes he heard the tell-tale knock of someone at his door.

Damian pushed him up, “Answer it priest,” he demanded, despite hiding himself behind Jason’s bedroom door, his eyes peeking out.

The knock came again, Jason really considering his life choices as he, made his way down the stone steps. He straightened himself up when he got to the bottom, made sure his sweatpants weren't going to tangle if he made a run, then opened the door to greet the man on the other side.

A hand thrust out between them before Jason could say hello. "Alfred Pennyworth," the man introduced, Jason taking his hand gingerly.

"Okay." Up close, the man seemed even more pristine. It looked like he'd never had a hair out of place in his life, and Jason was sure he'd detected an accent. Maybe this guy was the hitman. "Er, Jason. What can I do for you?"

Alfred seemed to hesitate, something Jason thought he didn't do a lot of before saying, "My- friend told me that you have a young boy staying with you."

Great. "Look, I'm not a rapist or a paedophile, the cops dropped the charges," He thought. "That kid is perfectly safe with me. So don't even think about starting on that-"

"No," Alfred interrupted, taking another look at Jason. Something told Jason he'd probably just made his first impression ten times worse. "No, I wasn't here about that. You see, it seems foolish even thinking this, but my friend believes that the boy you have upstairs is his grandson."

"Oh," crap. "Right. So, the guy staking us out is-"

"Thomas Wayne, yes," the way Alfred said it you wouldn't think they were friends. Alfred straightened himself back up, "I'm sorry, I know this sounds ludicrous, and any other instance I would dismiss Thomas' words. However, that boy..." Yeah, Damian did take after hid daddy.

Which brought up a whole new realm of questions. If Jason let this guy in he was going to want to take Damian to see Thomas. The only reason Jason didn't feel guilty about saying Damian's name before to the Bat was because he'd thought Damian had already introduced himself to the guy. He'd thought Damian had smoothed over, or at least come up with some excuse as to why there was a kid running around with Wayne genes. Now however, with none of that being so, if Jason let Damian go then not only was he in for DNA tests and questions that would probably send Thomas Wayne even more mad, but Bruce was definitely going to hear about this. 

"Yeah, look, erm, this isn't really a good time."

"Oh, I won't take long. I merely wish to meet the boy. To put my mind at rest," Alfred hurried.

"And I would let you..." Jason stalled, just as a stupid idea came to him, "But his dad's out at the moment and I promised I wouldn't let any strangers in."

Alfred paled, "His father?"

"Dick," Jason said.

Almost immediately, without any facial movement at all, Jason felt like he was under a microscope. This guy saw more than he was letting on. Maybe he was Batman, Jason thought, then, huh, maybe this guy was Batman. The guy did say he was a friend of Thomas Wayne's. There was no scruff, but that could be shaved off. Alfred was in good shape as well, and with some money and armour...

"Look, I really gotta get back to him," Jason smiled, hoping it wasn't too strained. "He's a little tinker, always up to mischief."

The door closed with no resistance, Alfred not even knocking again as Jason scaled the steps back to his apartment. He ran over to the bedroom, standing with Damian as they watched Alfred walk back over to Thomas Wayne's car. Alfred didn't seem too frustrated as he got in, and when the car took off there were no squealing tyres.

Damian wasn't all that interested when he found out it was Thomas. The focus he'd shown in the last few days evaporated instantly, Damian turning to the nearest thing he could find and tried to smash it. 

Jason still kept sentry at the window. While Damian may not think it interesting Thomas was in that car, Jason couldn't stop wondering what came next. Jason had said so to Batman. He'd said so Damian was Thomas's grandson. The man wasn't going to just let that go. Especially with how much Damian resembled Bruce. While Jason would have liked to think that beauty was demon made, he'd seen photos of Bruce before he died. Jason didn't think anything had been added when hell had taken hold of that body. 

Jason jumped when Dick slid into his lap, as miserable as Jason felt as he stared himself out the window. "Bad day?" Jason asked.

"Frustrating," Dick corrected. "You?"

"Could've been worse." But still bad was understood between them.

He drifted with Dick pinning him down, waking when Damian climbed over both of them to peer excitedly out the window. "It's the Bat man. See? Look at that and tell me it is not harpy like."

Dick didn't even raise his head as he hummed consideringly. "I suppose."

Jason didn't even have to raise his head either to see Batman. The guy had scaled Jason's wall, sitting partially obscured by the edge of the window. He couldn't look away from those red lenses, wondering really if it was Alfred behind that cowl. Even if it wasn't, Jason didn't know what the hell Batman wanted and quite frankly didn't care to find out.

He shoved Dick off him, grabbing Damian before the kid could open the window to spit abuse at Batman. The curtains closed and doors locked, Jason ended up camping out on Damian's bed in the living room with a demon on either side. 

The Bat didn't break inside. By morning Jason was still on his camp bed, all doors locked with Dick playing with the drawstring on his sweats and Damian kicking him in his sleep.

He made breakfast, avoiding the curtains in his room as he got his demons up for the day. Despite not sleeping, Dick clung to that blanket like there was no tomorrow. Eventually Jason just left him, focusing on Damian who was trying to persuade Titus to try his bacon.

Jason got Dick out the door at ten, telling him if he tried one more day and failed they would go back to their old routine. It worked at least, and if Jason were honest he was kind of missing the security of having Dick with him most of the day.

With Dick gone, and Jason's cupboards almost empty, he resigned himself for another trip out. He hoped the media had calmed down a bit as he tugged his hoodie back on. Damian he dressed up too, pulling his hood up every time the kid yanked it down.

They got there and back with no unusual problems. Yes, Damian really did try and jump into traffic this time, but Jason managed to wrangle him back before he could get hit. Jason was honestly surprised with it. Last he'd been out they had been labelling him some kind of groomer getting his parish friends to have a go at Tim. This time, his face was nowhere to be found. Instead, Jack had took his place, his name and face on every tv and paper they passed. The evidence the GCPD had was enough to convict him. No bribing or pull could get Jack out of trouble now. Jason wanted to feel glad, elated that Jack was getting his just reward. He didn't. It didn't really matter, never had, the damage had been done and no jail was going to save Jason from recoiling from his own church.

Damian went straight for Titus, showing off a new dog toy he'd cajoled Jason to get. It kept Damian sated, enough that he didn't follow Jason when he checked the window outside of his room. 

He knew before he looked the bat was gone. The bat didn't work in daylight. Never. Even if crime had started picking up through the hours nine to five. Still, Jason couldn't tell that to his nerves, so many break ins and attacks so close together not doing a thing to soothe him.

The window was clear, his wall too, yet, tacked on the edge of his bed was a folded piece of paper. Inside was a transcript of Jason's interview with Gordon. Particularly, the part where he was asking about Jason's relationship with Dick. Where Jason denied, someone had wrote in clear red pen: LIES, an address following.

Jason knew a threat when he saw it. The message here was clear. The Bat had seen the familiarity last night. Probably had a photo too before Jason closed the curtains. If the Bat had a photo he could just slide that over to the GCPD. Now, a photo of a cuddle might not have Jason arrested, but the closeness would definitely put into question Jason's honesty. It would only be a matter of time before they were knocking on his door, and this time Jason didn't think Mr Wayne would be helping.

"What did you do?" Came behind him.

He turned, coming face to face with Bruce. "I didn't mean to," Jason whispered. His voice wasn't working, barely heard in the quiet room. He didn't think it was magic, just fear and he memory of shadowed hands on his throat.

Something in the air must have alerted the other demons as Dick appeared in front of Bruce almost instantly. Damian wasn't far behind, but instead of creating a united front, the kid ran to climb Bruce's back in some semblance of a hug. 

"Bruce, wasn't expecting you," Dick greeted.

"Wasn't expecting to be here," He stopped Damian from clawing more skin, picking the kid up and settling him in Dick's arms. "Your priestis more trouble than he's worth. Are you sure you still need him?"

"Very," Dick growled, and if Jason could see hid face he would bet those eyes would be flaming blue. "Say what you came for and leave if you're not going to be civil."

"Fine," Bruce huffed. "Your priest has alerted my father of the supernatural. Unless you want to be hunted down I suggest you get him under control and let me take care of this."

"Take care?" Jason asked, stepping around Dick. "You mean kill?"

A dark look went over Bruce's face. "I mean fix priest. My father serves a purpose I don't need eradicated just yet. So keep him under watch or I'll make sure the first person in my vengence is him."

With that, he took Damian back, the short hold with Dick merely a goodbye as the two disappeared into shadows.


	9. Chapter 9

Jason didn't know what to do. 

While Bruce had said to do nothing, that he was going to take care of it, Jason didn't exactly know what that meant. The Bat had still declared his intentions, was probably there, right now, at the address he'd given Jason. If Jason went then he would be going against what Bruce told him to do. But if he didn't, well, Jason didn't think Bruce had Jason's best interests at heart. That photo he had, therefore, was probably going to end up on the front page of the Gazette tomorrow.

"Will you stop?" Dick asked, holding Jason's wrists again. His track mark was really starting to make a comeback these days.

"The Bat still has that photo Dick."

"I know," But, unlike Jason, Dick didn't see the problem of someone having an intimate shot of them.

"He's going to give it over to the cops if we don't turn up Dick. I'm going to be pulled back in."

Dick sighed, sitting down back on Damian's camp bed. Jason should move that. Yes, it had only been a few hours since Damian left, but Jason knew the kid wasn't coming back. Not tonight anyway. He hoped the kid was okay.

"Jason," Dick called, back in front of him again. Jason really needed to calm down. "It's fine. Everything's going to turn out okay."

Jason scoffed, but hunkered down anyway to hear Dick out.

The demon fell back down to the bed. "Look, blackmail only works if there's something to blackmail with. I'll just do a quick sweep and get that photo back from the bat."

Right, Dick could do that.

Jason felt his shoulders relaxing. Well, sort of relaxing, he had just given a kid over to a demon after all. 

The rest of the evening Jason tried to weasel out of Dick what was going to happen to Damian now his dad had him. The thing was, Dick didn't know either. Bruce probably would have told Dick any other time of year if he hadn't been hanging around Jason. Alas, he was, which meant both of them were in the dark.

At nine, Dick left, Jason making camp by his window in case the Bat showed up.

He didn't.

Instead, Dick did, with all the evidence the Bat had on Jason in hand. There sure was a lot of it. This guy had done more than snap a quick photo. On his usb, there were days of photos showing Dick and Jason's lives. Some of them were way too intimate for Jason's liking. It looked like the guy had broken in to take them. Which, considering he'd just stood there and did nothing while Jack attacked him, wasn't too hard to think of.

Jason gladly burned that thing and made sure his curtains were pulled all the way closed before he slept the rest of the night away.

Morning, and it was strange that Jason only had to make food for one. It was even stranger when he was the one filling Titus' bowl instead of Damian.

"He's not there buddy," Jason said for the fifth time.

Titus didn't listen, seeming to think Damian was just hiding from him as he sniffed around the usual places the kid lurked. Jason wondered if Damian would come back for him. He hoped he did. Not because he wanted rid of the dog, no, Titus had kind of grown on him. Jason hoped Damian came and got him because he hated thinking that the kid was somewhere he hated without a friend. Jason still remembered that Damian shrinked from loud noises.

It got to noon, Jason barely noticing he hadn't sent Dick away for his good deeds. Quite frankly now he realised it, he didn't really want to. Dick didn't bring it up either, probably glad Jason wasn't stuffing him out the door. Still, just to sweeten the deal, or make sure Jason really was keeping him around for the day, Dick stole some of his favourite sweets and holed them up on the couch all day.

He was dozing, Dick's voice drifting over him as they crossed into the next chapter. He could see the large plains of England in his mind, Titus covering his feet so the dewy grass wasn't so cold on his skin. It was nice.

Enough that when he got up he felt the cricks and pains of being tense for so long start to set in. Dick followed him to the kitchen, seeming to apologise for Damian's absence by chattering the whole time Jason cooked.

Overall, it was a quiet day. Real quiet, and not one Jason thought he would have complained about when he first picked Damian up from the orphanage. 

He turned the lights off, drew the curtains too until there was just the soft light from Jason's room to guide the way. Dick was setting up his nightly video stream, wings out and waiting for Jason to crawl into them. 

He drew his own curtains, hesitating when he was done, something in the back of his mind telling him not to pull away. The feeling grew, a suspicion too, until he was peeling back one corner and looking out at a car he probably should have expected to see.

"Dammit."

"Something wrong?" Dick chirped.

Jason let the curtaun fall, scurrying over to Dick and his wings. "Thomas is back," he said.

Dick didn't look surprised. "He's been here since noon."

"And you didn't tell me?" 

Dick shrugged, Jason knowing to him, again, it wasn't that big a deal. He huffed, falling back into soft featers that curled around him. 

He supposed the guy had a right to be curious. But when that curiosity enticed the bat too, Jason had a problem with that. He settled in for a long night, telling Dick if he heard the Bat breaking in he was to scare him off with the least violence possible.

Dick was delighted.

Morning came with Jason waking once at seven, looking at his clock and then remembering he had nothing to do, before falling back to sleep. When he woke again, it was to soft kisses on his back. They stopped when Jason shifted, Dick breathing out shakily once before settling his head in the dip of Jason's spine.

"Time is it?" Jason garbled.

"Ten."

Jason mumbled, just noises of waking, before resigning himself to starting his day. He made breakfast, Dick keeping close as usual. Unlike other times however, where Jason could put it down to usual Dick clinginess, this seemed like something else.

"You okay?" Jason asked when it didn't let up by lunch.

Dick nodded, if a bit shakily. "Just a bit hungry. It'll pass."

It took a moment for Jason to get it, to understand how this was different to any other day. When he did, he couldn't believe Dick had even lasted this long. With his trapeze lessons and Damian distracting him Dick probably hadn't even noticed the months slipping by. It was always the fourth month. When they had first started this with Dick going cold turkey, he'd already been a good month without feeding. Three after that with Jason he'd slipped up for the first time. After that, four months on, the attacks got more and more violent until Jason started giving him little bits here and there. Without them, and without Damian adding on to things Dick needed to keep his mind on, his body was probably starting to process another fourth month being here.

He didn't know what it was, but Dick could never handle more than four months. Jason had looked it up, sure, the internet giving him answers like the mind growing complacent and the body finally free of the harmful substance. Either way, cold turkey Dick was getting antsy.

Jason contemplated the rest of the day whether it would be a good idea to feed Dick. Well, between keeping an eye on Thomas Wayne he was. Dick was doing so well. Really well. It wasn't like the last few times. Dick wasn't so desperate he couldn't think. He didn't attack Jason any time he could. He was almost normal how he functioned. He was better. No, he was ready.

"I think, maybe, we should find another outlet for you," Jason approached that evening. They were both by Jason's window, Dick back in his lap, his fingers pulling the material almost too much as they watched the car outside. 

"Like what?"

If trapeze was going to take all of Jason's money to maintain then they needed something else, something free, to help Dick along. "How about yoga?" There were videos on youtube they could follow along with. "Or painting." Damian's stuff was still there.

"I don't think so." Those figers clenched just a bit too hard in Jason's shirt, dragging a bit of skin with them.

"Okay," something else, something else. "How about a show?"

Dick perked up at that. "A show?"

"You've worked so hard, and I know you're not like olympic standard, but I'm sure the kids at the orphanage would love to see you." If Jason could get in touch with them that was. He wasn't quite sure where he stood on the sex offenders list yet. "You could make your own outfit."

"Like the ones in the videos?" Oh yeah, Dick was interested. Better, he was distracted. Jason knew if he could just get Dick past four months they would make some kind of breakthrough.

"Sure. I'm sure the gym won't mind."

With that said, Dick chattered on the rest of the night about his outfit, his nails growing softer as they pawed Jason's shirt. Pretty soon they stopped altogether, Dick bounding away to fetch Damain's sketchbook to make a first draft of his costume.

After being up allnight while Jason slept, Dick had five potential ideas to present in the morning. So long as it kept him busy, Jason said to try out all of them as he went over to check on his other problem.

Except, the car was gone.

Huh.

Jason ended up helping Dick the rest of the day with his costume. 

Unsurprisingly, Jason's luck didn't hold the day after. When he went to his window not only was the car back, but Alfred was staring right back at Jason. He knew the old man wasn't going to leave, that much was apparent just from the way he stood. So, when he came knocking, Jason sent Dick out with a quest to find good material for his costumes and let Alfred in.

"Mr Todd," Alfred greeted, having manners at least to remember courtesy.

"Alfred. What can I do for you?"

Alfred hedged him a look, "You know precisely what I'm doing here Jason."

Yeah, he did, and with four days to work with he was surprised Alfred was here. Jason thought Bruce would have dealt with this. He did promise. Or, threaten.

He let the man look his fill of Jason's living room, his bedroom door wide open as well. They both knew Damian wasn't here, the question was whether Jason could persuade Alfred that the kid wasn't coming back. The truth, yes, but to Alfred it would no doubt look like Jason was just hiding the kid.

He grabbed some lemonade, the bottle untouched since Damian left. Alfred took the glass, his eyes still doing a sweep like Jason had Damian hidden in the rafters.

"You know, I'm starting to think you're more interested than Mr Wayne. Shouldn't he be the one breaking down my door?" If Jason was in his shoes, no window or door on earth would keep him from finding out the truth.

Alfred finished his assessment, turning those clinical eyes on Jason. "One would think. However, Thomas does not deem the situation too dire just yet. He is happy to wait and let Damian come to him."

"And you don't want that?" It certainly explained the bad blood between them in the car if Alfred was the only one willing to take charge.

"That boy... I don't know how but I know it in my gut he is a Wayne. And you Mr Todd, have no right to keep him from me if this is the case."

"I disagree," Well, he had no choice. It was kind of what happened when the thing both parties were fighting over was no longer there. "I think I can keep him from you if his guardian wishes."

Alfred's eyes narrowed, catching on faster than Jason thought he would. "This is wrong."

"Yeah? Take it up with his father." Since Jason didn't want to have someone else gunning for him. 

"Which one?" Challenged Alfred. "The one you claim is his father or his real one?"

Jason kept quiet, holding Alfred's gaze as long as was needed. Alfred was just waiting for Jason to make a mistake, to turn and retreat or say something incriminating. He was good at this, using wordplay to catch someone out. But Jason had grown up in police cells, he knew this game too.

Alfred eventually dropped his gaze, huffing and rolling his shoulders to release the last of his anger. "I apologise. The situation recently has not been ideal."

Jason got it. He really did. But it didn't change facts that even if Damian was there it was besr if the kid remained hidden. He relaxed his own stance, taking the barely touched lemonade back to the kitchen. "Look. I wish I could help you. Seriously, I'm all about helping. But Damian isn't here and I don't know when he's coming back. Or where he is before you start. His dad just took him and left."

Alfred nodded, his eyes staring at nothing. "I just wished to meet him. Selfish of me maybe, but he looks so much like Bruce. I just wanted to see that smile one last time."

"You sound like you're dying," Jason said, knowing before it was out of his mouth that was possibly the worst thing to say to anyone. Especially when they were Alfred's, Jason was guessing, tender age.

The man himself waved his hand in a dismissive motion, "I'm going undercover in a few days. With missions like these, one never knows if they're to make it home."

"Oh." He wanted to retract his statement from earlier because it seemed he could feel worse about his behaviour. "Cop?"

"Special forces. The Amazons are causing quite a stir."

Jason nodded. Living in Gotham it felt like he was in his own little bubble, sometimes it was hard to remember a wider world existed. The Amazon's had been a stable part of society for years now, existing like a unexploded bomb just off the shoreline. Rumour had it they were treating with Atlantis, but if they were sending guys like Alfred in, either that was going south or their team up was the worst thing since the nuke.

"My luck to you."

Alfred nodded his thanks taking something out of his jacket pocket. He handed it over to Jason, "Just in case you do see him," he said, before leaving with barely a goodbye.

Jason put the envelope somewhere safe, hoping that some point down the line he could give it to Damian. Or Bruce since Jason was sure that was its intended target.

He watched as Alfred drove off, Thomas, Jason was assuming, in the drivers seat with how hard he made that first turn. He kind of hoped that was the last he saw of that car.

Busying himself the rest of the day, it was only when morning chirped the next day that Jason realised Dick wasn't back yet. Jason didn't panic, or, he pushed the panic he did have way down to focus on other things. Dick could do this, he'd proven he was strong. He'd probably gotten himself distracted with the sequins, last Jason saw there had been about a thousand on one collar. He was probably still picking out a colour.

When noon came, Jason figured since Dick had probably spent so much time in the sequins he was doing the same to the fabric types. Evening, Dick was deciding on a shoe. Nightfall and Jason was pretty worried.

Not only could he not sleep in his own house but Dick hadn't even checked in. Any other time of the year Jason wouldn't have thought twice about a disappearing act. Trying to be good or not, Dick was just as bad as Damian sometimes for trouble. Ordinarily, he trusted Dick to get out of it. But this was different. This was the four month mark. They were so close to Dick setting himself a new record. They were on the brink of another breakthrough with the angels, he could feel it. Dick was almost there, and now Jason didn't know where the hell he was.

He wasn't back the next day. Or the day after. One. Two. Three more days and Dick still hadn't returned. Jason couldn't exist in his apartment. It got so bad he took himself and Titus to the nearest homeless shelter and let some needy people have at his rooms for the night in exchange for their own.

He was cleaning up said mess, and when he said mess he meant picking hairs put of his drain. Just because they were homeless did not mean they were messy. In fact, compared to some people who had stayed over they were the cleanest ones here. Still, Jason just had a thing about his stuff being in order and clean, not helped by the fact that he was still wondering where Dick was.

Titus perked up, Jason feeling his whole body tense. He could make it out the window again if it came to it. He wasn't as injured as he was, the climb shouldn't be too bad on him this time. The dog barked once, letting Jason know he'd done his duty and was retreating just as a knock came on his door.

"Please be Alfred," Jason begged, bringing Titus with him to answer the door. Even then, he only opened it a crack, the door falling the rest of the way as he took in who was on the other side. "Don't take this the wrong way kid, but shouldn't you not be near me right now?"

"Yeah," Tim agreed, his voice barely there as he stared at Jason with red rimmed eyes. "But, thing is, I didn't know who else to come to."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those of you who don't know or haven't read flashpoint, me included, at least this one, I think I've said this before in What lurks in the Dark, but, Alfred ends up decapitated by the Amazons.  
> So, here, when he says he's leaving this is the last time we'll see him in this universe.  
> sorry.


	10. Chapter 10

Jason didn't let Tim in, he was nice not an idiot. Instead, he took the kid across the street to a well lit cafe with people still around despite the time of night.

Tim seemed so out of place even without the red rimmed eyes. His fancy clothes and slicked hair screamed wealthy, a beacon, really to those who hadn't seen a shoe that cost more than twelve dollars in their life. Yet, despite the obvious 'mug me' vibes Tim was giving off, the people didn't spare him a second look. Instead, they shook their heads at Jason, a warning to behave, before going back to their day to day lives.

Tim fetched coffee for the both of them, which to Jason's stretched wallet these days was a godsend. He barely spared a thought to the taste, despite it being a bit weird in his mouth. He put it down to being because the last time he'd had coffee outside of his home he'd been sixteen and newly resurrected. Everything had tasted good in those first few weeks, it was only right that nothing could live up to that high years later.

There was silence for a while, Tim just staring at Jason and Jason waiting for the reason of his visit to be announced. Finally, after a quick text fired off from Tim, the teenager put his hands around his own cup and sighed. "My dad's getting charged."

"I heard," Jason said, since anything else he had to say about Jack Tim shouldn't have to hear. The guy was a monster but he was still Tim's dad.

Tim nodded, "The whole of Gotham has." He played with the rim on his cup for a while. "I just, I can't believe it. Did he really-?"

Jason didn't say anything. He didn't have to. Tim just had to look at him and know the truth, the noise of pure anguish he made staying with Jason seconds after it had been made. 

"There are others too," Tim said, likely thinking Jason hadn't seen the other photo's. The media had only been able to grab a hold of the photo of him and Jack, for some reason the others being left behind in favour of clearing the stained priest from his role of the attacker. "But dad's lawyer says that since they aren't coming forward with statements that it's likely he's going to be let off."

"Are you serious?" Just the thought of Jack being let loose on Gotham again had Jason's blood running cold. There would be no mercy this time. Jason was sure the next time the two of them alone Jack would find some way to silence Jason. "But, what about the evidence? It happened Tim, and last I knew there was an airtight case against him. Witnesses or not, your dad shouldn't be getting out." Harsh maybe to say to Jack's son, but right now fear was overlapping everything else in Jason's mind.

Tim seemed just as worried, a small, "I know," slipping out along with a few tears before he collected himself again. "But our lawyers are good. They're going to argue to the court that the girls were consenting, that they came to him, also that they lied about their age. And since none of them will come forward the judge can't exactly refute it."

"He's guilty," Jason pressed, knowing, he'd always known, that Jack was going to get away with this. 

"I know," Tim said again, his hands shaking even more now. 

"Well, what about me, I'm more than happy to give my statement. I already did." Quite frankly how they hadn't been around again was a mystery. If they had been doing their jobs right they should have been asking Jason about his willingness to testify. "I mean, with your dad's history of going for more girls than guys they can't pin it on an affair. And, my vow, I know the people of Gotham don't take it seriously, but if they consider it from another viewpoint they'll have to see that I wasn't coerced into it." Now if Jason could get around that whole confessional thing that would be a dream too. He had times and dates galore on what Jack had been up to in his spare time.

Tim seemed to know that too as he nodded. "I know. The cops are banking on it." Yet Tim didn't seem too pleased about it. "They're hoping to take your statement tomorrow, along with doing another sweep around the church for any evidence they've missed."

"Great." Again, maybe Jason needed to have more tact when talking about this with Tim. He calmed himself down now that was out of the way, he knew for a fact that talking about Jack wasn't what Tim had sought him out for. If it were, he'd be getting up and going by now. Instead, he was hunkering further into his chair. "How are you doing Tim?"

The kid blinked a few times at Jason like he'd heard him wrong. "Me?"

"My opinion of your father doesn't correspond to you. If it did, I wouldn't have invited you to help out. How are you?"

Tim swallowed, more tears escaping before he brusquely wiped them off. "I'm okay." A lie, but one Jason could wait out as Tim still didn't rise to leave. Jason shifted slightly into a better position, for some reason his legs feeling a bit jittery as Tim gathered himself to say, "It's hard," the truth finally coming out. "Before, at school, I could just drift in the background. People didn't really pay me any mind, and I didn't want them to. But now, first with you and now my dad- they're just- it's hard."

"No doubt." Kids could be cruel on the best of days. Giving them actual ammo to throw at you was possibly the worst thing that could happen. At least when Jason attended school he wouldn't have his whole life ruined by one of these kids. Last he'd saw the most wealthy person in his class was running the grocers a few blocks from here, none of them had businesses and schools that could make or break a person. Also, when Jason was at school he could just punch the bastards that called him out, he doubted Tim could do that at his fancy school without some kind of lawsuit.

"Then there's mom," Tim went on, and Jason hadn't even thought about how she would take the news. "She's acting like nothing's wrong. Like dad's just going to walk in at any moment and they're going to go back to ignoring each other all day." He took a breath, his voice lowering from the pitch it had worked itself into. "Really, the only thing she seems to be worried about is the company."

"The company? What's that got to do with anything?" He supposed that marketing would have their work cut out for them, but this wasn't the first time someone high up had been arrested.

Tim took another breath, rubbing away more tears that kept falling. Jason didn't think the kid cried all that much, he seemed almost insulted every time he had to clear his vision. "Because the company is in my dad's name the stock's going to fall. Then there's the whole heir issue. He didn't think I was cut out for the company yet, so he didn't draft any paperwork for it to fall into my name should anything happen to him. Since mom doesn't have a share she can't buy more stock either which means that we're going to be left with nothing. There were people around the house this morning. Buyers. I know it's a stupid thing to be thinking about because, you know, he's my dad, but I don't want to move."

Jason didn't say anything about the kid probably having to move anyway when he went to collage. It wasn't relevant since Tim wasn't talking about the house itself, more for what it stood for. If Jack went away, Tim was going to be losing his whole way of life. He wasn't a tough kid, Jason had seen him struggle under blankets. Without a little bit of money, Tim wasn't going to survive in this world. "What about your mom? I mean, don't you people usually marry into like minded families." Wealthy seemed too harsh a label to put on Tim, the kid understanding anyway.

"Well, mom kind of put all her money into the company. Even the inheritance she got from here parents she used when there were problems with the pensions a few years back. She's been talking about waitressing." The way Tim said it sounded like a bad thing. Jason kind of hoped the barista's in this place weren't keeping an ear on them. All Jason needed was hate mail from them too because a rich kid had bad mouthed their profession. 

Jason considered it. Tim needed consoling, but, the thing was, he needed a wake up call more. It was one thing telling him things would be fine, but fine didn't help in the long run. Dick didn't need to be told it was fine when he came to Jason, he needed to be told the facts, to be told no, to be shown that resilience paid off. Tim was no different. "Look kid, you're making it seem like this is the end of the world. It's not. Yes, your dad is ruining your life now, but you can't let that weigh you down the rest of your life. You've got a brain, and I bet good transcripts from your teachers. No college is going to question a change in school so close to admittance. Scholarships are there for a reason, and once you're there, your life is in your hands." He shifted again, his stomach starting to feel jittery now. Maybe it was something he'd ate. "Your mom will survive. You will survive Tim. This is just a blip. One I'm sure you can overcome."

The kid nodded, his eyes focused on the coffee in front of him. "You're always so nice to me," Tim said, not exactly what Jason had thought he would hear after a speech like that.

"Well, you're a nice kid." Quiet, and more trouble than he was worth sometimes, but a nice kid overall.

"You never send me away," Tim said, more to himself this time.

"I kind of can't. But even if I could, I wouldn't." His stomach was really going for it now, his legs too, no amount of crossing or uncrossing helping him settle. He felt like he was sweating. 

"Dick's lucky to have you," he could barely hear Tim now, his brain so focused on what the hell was happening to his body. 

Jason focused back up. "About that, I probably should have told you, but Dick isn't my boyfriend."

Tim either didn't hear him or didn't care as he kept looking down at his drink. Jason thought the latter since Tim repeated, "Dick's lucky to have you."

He didn't correct the kid again. He didn't know what was going through Tim's mind, and, quite frankly, couldn't bring himself to care as something else made itself prominent. Jason looked around, checking the patrons still had their eyes elsewhere as he tugged his shirt over the lower half of his sweats. He needed to get out of there. If he didn't, tomorrow's headline was going to read again about a pervy priest. "Listen, Tim, I know you're going through a lot right now, and my door is always open. But, I think I may have given myself food poisoning, or something, so I'm afraid we're going to have to cut this meeting short." There, polite and urgent.

Tim finally looked up at him, the kid not even bothering to wipe his eyes this time around as he mumbled, "I'm sorry Jason."

He stopped in his tracks, curiosity and a hint of dread making him sit and cover himself again. "Why?"

"My mom she- your whole statement rests on the fact that you're celibate."

He didn't wait to hear the rest, tearing out of the coffee shop and over to the church, Tim just half a step behind him as he shouted apologies. He made it to the stairs before his mind clouded over with a compulsion to wait for Tim, willing Tim who had notebooks full of drawings of him. It took effort to push that thought back, by then Tim had caught up to him fast enough to slip through the closing door. Jason kept away, stumbling up the stairs until he could hide himself away in the bathroom. Luckily, Tim wasn't quick enough to get through this time, the kid lingering behind the door anyway as he kept spewing sorry's at Jason.

"I had to," Tim begged. "She said if I didn't- Jason I'm sorry."

He tuned the kid out to figure just what his body was doing. The erection was the most obvious, straining uncomfortably as it tried to find a good place to settle. His balls were a close second for attention, almost painful as they clenched far too close to his body. It was becoming harder to focus on anything else other than those two things. His mind seemed to be turning off, some primal part of him he'd never really experienced before, at least not this strong, taking over. Distantly, Jason remembered Tim getting the drinks, connecting the dots between then and the apologies behind the door with a slowness his mind would regret later. 

"What is it?" Jason gasped, his knees buckling the longer he stood. They were itching to move, to... thrust. "Tim, what did you give me?" He'd never encountered drugs like these. He knew there were pills out there that helped men with their stamina, but Jason didn't think their effects would be like this. They wouldn't be so consuming. This... it was only a matter of time before he gave in, time that was running out fast. 

"I don't know." God the kid had to get out. If his mom made him do this, Jason wasn't going to be responsible for putting a kid in the position he'd been in. "Mom gave it to me, she said she got it from a woman, I-I think the Bat got her but she met with mom before that. I'm sorry."

"Stop saying that." A woman. Someone the Bat got. That meant she was dead, which meant that whatever drug Jason had in his system wasn't going to have a quick fix. That was okay. So long as he stayed in here, kept himself away from Tim, he couldn't be incriminated, Tim couldn't get anything on him. The kid wouldn't have to worry if Jason could wait this out. He'd done his job, did what his mom wanted, it wasn't Tim's fault that Jason was too prickly to give in. Still, for good measure, Jason told the kid, "You gotta go. Now Tim."

There was a heavy breath on the other side of the door before Tim was fiddling with something clinking against the wood. "I'm sorry Jason." A ding followed shortly after, Tim appearing to move away from the wood.

Jason breathed a bit easier as his hand drifted towards the tie in his sweats. He got the knot open just as a series of clashes sounded in the next room. He wondered what Tim was doing, if he was looking for another way in, as the shadows in his bathroom shaped themselves. 

"Not now," Jason begged, the shadows not listening as Dick's body formed itself snarling and crawling like something out of a horror movie.

He calmed when he saw Jason, the anger lessening in favour of throwing himself into Jason's arms. "Jason! Jason you won't believe what-" Dick stilled, the both of them feeling how little space were between them. "Jay?"

"You have to go," Jason said, the last of his willpower ebbing the longer Dick stood there. "Now. Tim's in the next room. He gave me something- Dick go."

The arms around his neck slackened, but not by much, Dick peeling himself away as slow as he could. It was hard, and Jason was just beginning to realise how hard, for the both of them to separate. Even when there was room to breathe between them Dick didn't let go altogether. 

Four months echoed in Jason's head. Tim had chosen the wrong time to do this. Such a bad time.

Any other time of the month Dick would have went before now. He would be in the next room hunting Tim down while Jason sorted his mind out. He wouldn't have lingered long enough for Jason to lose the last of his morals and near tackle Dick in search of friction.

The demon responded, falling back easily on the tiled floor. He didn't feel pain, nor did he hurt himself on the tiles, Dick's hair splaying out like he'd just landed on a soft pillow as Jason latched himself onto the soft skin of his throat. Jason imagined, without a four month absence, Dick would have been a considerate lover. To him, it was all about the end result, and if the orgasm was big, Dick ate better. Right now, he was just as feral as Jason, the two of them tearing clothes and boxers until there was nothing between them. 

They moved awkwardly for a while, Jason and Dick both rubbing themselves against any patch of skin they could find. It was eventually Dick's instincts that kicked in, the demon freeing both of his legs to wrap them around Jason's hips. Dick stilled them, pushing on Jason's back until he was lying on top, his arms scrabbling for some kind of grip on the smooth floor. His brain registered the pain in his knees, the product of falling without warning onto the hard tiles. There was a breeze for a moment, some sound he couldn't place in the haze of Dick's fiery blue eyes. Whatever it was, Dick scared it off, the breeze leaving and Dick turning gently until he could start placing small kisses on Jason's cheek. 

The slow pace didn't agree with the drug running through Jason's veins, his arms managing to find a way under Dick's back, clutching his shoulders as he tried to make the demon move. Dick loosened the hold on Jason's hips, his legs helping to find that friction that agreed so pleasurably in his brain. The soft kisses still came, Dick turning further and further in until he got Jason's lips. Jason responded automatically, letting Dick do what he liked as he rut down harder, the tightness reaching its pique until crashing forward, leaving Jason breathless. 

The last thing he remembered was a quick kiss before he passed out.

Usually, when he slept after feeding Dick, there was nothing. This time, Jason spent the whole time in a constant state of terror. He didn't know why. When he woke, he couldn't even remember what it was he'd been dreaming about. But the refreshed feeling he got from sleeping in way longer than he usually did was missing. In its place was sweat and a want to run as far and as fast as he could. 

It took a good two minutes for his heart to beat at a normal rate, even longer for him to get his breathing under control. When he did, it wasn't Dick in the room with him. He kind of wished it was, despite the fact that he didn't know what it was he would say to Dick when he did see him. Tim, too, he probably could have handled, even if it was a quick shake to the kid to get his priorities straight. Instead, Jason got his breath back and came face to face with Batman.

"I don't have anything for you," Jason gasped, taking another deep breath. "Damian's gone. I don't know where he is."

The Bat didn't move, didn't speak, just handed Jason a newspaper.

The cover was precisely what Jason hadn't wanted to see. Most of the picture was blurred out, but Jason's face was pretty clear. As was Dick's. It took a moment for him to remember how this could have happened. In a rush, Jason remembered Tim telling him Jason's testimony was the only thing keeping Jack from walking free. That it hinged on his truthfulness about his relationships with not only Tim and Dick but God. This photo would damn him and every truth he'd told the GCPD. 

Moving was a bad idea, his muscles aching as he crawled from his bed. He didn't question how he got there, just reached for his laptop and checked the date. "I've been out for a week." How he wasn't in hospital was a mystery. He turned to the Bat, "What happened?"

"Ivy," Came the curt answer. "You're lucky I had an antidote. Since you couldn't work it out of your system your body was shutting down."

That didn't surprise him. With the luck he was having of late and the fact he felt like hell, that didn't surprise him at all. He fell back into bed, not having the energy to move for a while. "How long have you been here?"

"A while." Again, brisk and barely there. "Your food is off."

"It does that." 

"It happened in minutes," The Bat continued, like he couldn't believe Jason wasn't seeing the weirdness about that situation.

"It does that," Jason said again, knowing that Dick was probably behind it. Dick who was still missing, who had been missing before all of this new chaos started. "Are they coming to arrest me?"

The Bat was quiet for a while, long enough for Jason's heart to start going faster than usual. It pained his chest, like running a marathon seconds after finishing the last one. Finally, the Bat said, "No. I sent Gordon your fluids, he's looking into starting another case. A restraining order on the Drakes too."

Jason grunted, not so sure that was a bad thing right now. "Jack's still getting out though, isn't he?"

The silence was all the confirmation Jason needed.

He tossed an arm over his eyes, not surprised, minutes later, when he looked for the Bat again that he was gone. Really, there was only one person he wanted to see right now, and from the looks of things, Dick might never come back to him again. After all, if Jason said yes once, who was to say he wouldn't again? 


	11. Chapter 11

The day Jack Drake was allowed back into society was quite a normal day for everyone else. The Bat managed to shoot some bad guys dead the night before, so Gotham thought themselves a bit safer to walk the streets. The GCPD was still fighting the right not get privatised and losing as per usual. The guy down the street had lost his dog in the night and was chasing it down with his kids. 

Yet, for Jason, this wasn't an ordinary day. With his food being off and not wanting to face outside just yet, Jason was stuck looking for something to eat. After a sad looking bowl of milkless cereal, he'd set himself up in the living room, his laptop on, Titus drooling on his legs and the nearest news channel showing the press release. Throughout all of this, Jason was alone. It had been a good day since he'd woke to the Bat in his bedroom. Eight days since Tim Drake had drugged him with some kind of poison. Not once in his sweep of the apartment did Jason find any message from Dick.

It was worrying. Especially after the last time they had seen each other. 

The reporter on screen was giving some unbiased crap about Jack being acquitted. She seemed to be leaning towards the angle of a hard at work businessman being taken advantage of by poverty stricken gold diggers despite that, lending her microphone to Jack for some speech Jason could barely listen to. Justice was just a dream in Gotham, one that wasn't going to be made a reality any time soon. 

He tuned back in when his name was mentioned, Jack's face turning sour for a moment before thanking his son for wheedling out the truth. Jason hoped the Bat was taking Jason's warning to heart. Free or not, Tim had been one of the people that had incriminated him to begin with. 

Jason spent the rest of the day in a daze. He didn't know what to do with himself. To step outside would be letting people judge him, and, try as he might to be above all of that, he did feel the sting of words and judgemental gazes like the rest of humanity. Still, he needed to eat. It was a battle all day of whether he would give in or not, broken at last, by the fifth bowl of cereal he swallowed down. 

He waited until he knew the rush of day to day people would be home before he pulled on a hoodie and crept his way down to the grocers. He kept his head down as much as he could, not at all shocked to see that some of his nudes were still making the front page instead of Jack's release. He wondered if he could steal them, he'd already condemned himself to reaffirming his vows, may as well, do something really damning. 

He didn't steal them. Instead, he spent a good five minutes subjected to the cashier shooting subtle hints towards the newspapers and got the hell out of there. Dick still wasn't back when he got home. 

It was a week before Jason's life got remotely interesting. His superiors got in touch. Strangely, they had been at the back of his mind through the long hours sitting and waiting for Dick or Jack to walk through his door. 

The call was short, telling him to report back to his training parish for a week of reformation. After that, they would review what had happened and see if he was fit to continue where he was. Jason didn't care either way. On the one hand, he would be away from the Drakes if he was transferred to somewhere else, and Dick could find him anywhere so location wasn't the problem. On the other, he had liked being back in the streets he'd grown up on. He felt like he was making a difference, a small, barely there, difference, but he figured that if there was ever a kid like him on the streets, maybe they wouldn't agree to the needle because of something he'd done. 

His reformation couldn't come soon enough, especially because Dick still hadn't come home. 

He made the trip on Sunday, waving goodbye to Gotham as he drove to Metropolis. The clouds seemed to disperse the closer he got, the air more richer. By the time he was at the small monastery just on the outskirts he was squinting at the light, not used to so much brightness in his day.

He was met with a stern look and led to a pallet in a long hall where twenty other men were waiting. 

The days were spent in silence and reflection. Every so often, Jason was led into a confessional where he was forced to recount what happened since his last visit here. The good thing about confession was that they didn't question whether Jason was telling the truth, they trusted him to have the strength to bare his soul and God to have the strength to forgive him. Even then it was only Jason speaking, the confessional conducted in silence on the other end. 

At the end of the week, Jason was itching for talk. How he had stood this in the first year of his conduction into the priesthood he didn't know. It probably had something to do with the fact he was still traumatised from his stint beneath the ground. Either way, he was glad when he was pulled into the main office next Sunday morning.

The conversation was long, warning upon warning made to Jason that a priests job was to stay out of the limelight of Gotham. They told him about how thin the ice was on he was walking, before, after at least two hours, he was told he could go back to his church. Jason wondered if they had made a mistake as he drove back. There was no way the society surrounding the church would forget his naked backside any time soon. 

His apartment, this time, was just the same as how he left. Food was in season, his stuff was in order, and Dick was still nowhere to be seen. 

It took three more days of this before Jason was saying to hell with people's opinion and went looking. He started with the gym where Dick did his lessons. According to the receptionist they hadn't seen him since the Saturday Jason had come with Damian. Jason thanked her, asking her to phone him if Dick did show up. He still had some lessons left with the gym, it wasn't that far fetched to believe he would come for a quick fly.

Next up were the streets in general. He called for Dick like he was a lost dog instead of a demon, hoping that at some point Dick would hear and at least give him a sign that he was still around. When no sign came here, Jason got desperate enough to go to the last place he didn't ever want to go.

Usually, another Father dealt with Arkham. It had been a decision they had left up to the mayor, not one priest in Gotham wanting to put their name forward to deal with that lot. It wasn't the insanity that put Jason off from wanting to come here. Far from it. It was more the fact that when Jason walked in he was sure at any moment a doctor or nurse would lead him to a cell and tell him that he was to stay the rest of his life. 

The drive up was just as daunting as it was on TV. Jason almost felt like telling the cab driver to turn around and not look back. He didn't. Barely. Instead, he got out, with a number to call for his return trip and a nurse showing him in.

They were rather pleased that Jason was here, apparently their state assigned priest hadn't turned up for a few weeks and they had a few patients that needed seeing to. Jason was hesitant but happy to help so long as he got what he came for at the end. 

The patients he was given weren't too off the scale. Very well behaved actually, and rather pleased to see him. One of them, an old man that couldn't even remember the crimes he was in Arkham for, actually cried when he saw Jason. He didn't think anyone was coming, and judging from the morbid tone the nurses had when talking to Jason about him he didn't have long left. Jason made a note to have a word with the priest assigned to Arkham after this. Scared or not, it was no reason not to be here. 

It took two hours overall before Jason was led away from the medical bay and over to a private, secured, room. The Joker was on the other side, he face mangled and somehow even more terrifying under fluorescent lights. Jason got the privacy he wanted, not even the doctors wanting to get on Jason's bad side, especially since he was the only priest to actually come in weeks. With no one listening in, and a screen protecting Jason from anything the Joker could throw at him, he got down to business.

"I'm looking for Dick," he said.

The Joker still smiled behind the glass, just as wide and manic as before, but, just for a moment, when Jason said Dick's name, it slipped.

"I know Bruce can get in touch with him."

At Bruce, the Joker surged against the glass, the laughing starting up. "Bruce is dead," she chuckled, her eyes saying a different story, almost a desperate for Jason to disagree with her.

"We both know he's not." The laughing stopped, that sad sort of weeping chuckle taking its place. "Look, I need to get in touch with him, and I don't know why he's got a fascination with you but I figure you're bound to see him before I do. So, can you tell him I'm looking for him? Or, at least Dick?"

The weeping continued for a while, Jason noting the shift in her, the realisation that she wasn't crazy. Or, she wasn't completely crazy. She didn't say anything for the rest of the time Jason was in there, and when the nurses came to wheel her away, Jason could see her subtly nod. It was as much as a confirmation as Jason was going to get. It was good enough.

He got back home with hopes bigger than they should be, dashed, once more when no one but himself was there to greet him. 

His stint with the Joker didn't bear any fruit until five days later. 

He woke up in his bed, as usual, only, when he looked around the room there was someone else on his bed.

"Damian!" He'd never been so happy to see the kid. He even managed to trap the kid in a hug, Damian squirming the entire time until he could get Jason to unhand him. "I take it Bruce sent you."

Damian tutted, righting the pyjama's he'd had on the last time they had seen each other. "Father thought it best I keep an eye on you priest. It seems you have ignored his words to stay out of things that do not concern you."

"I only went to the Joker because I couldn't think of anyway else to get in touch with Dick. Have you seen him?"

Damian scowled, "No. Why? What did you do priest?"

"Nothing," Which was true. If he had done something, Dick would probably still be here. "I'm worried about him."

Damian tutted again. "You should not be. If Dick has left you, he has probably tired of you. Now, where are your fruit loops. I require nourishment."

Jason grumbled but went to fetch Damian's cereal. It was half empty, the kid not really noticing as he chomped on the sugary loops. Bruce didn't show up the whole morning Jason babysat Damian. Jason was starting to think Bruce was next to useless in any situation.

Damian asked where Titus was as the morning turned to afternoon, Jason having to tell Damian the news that Titus was still in the kennels. Since Damian didn't know what that was, Jason had to tell him on the way over to pick the dog up. He'd been putting off picking Titus up for a number of reasons, the first being that he didn't know if he was going back to Gotham. When he did come back, he'd been worried about Jack or Dick showing up and upsetting the dog. It was bad enough waking to Titus locked in the church. The Bat obviously wasn't an animal lover since he'd kept Titus away and barely fed from Jason the whole time he was out. But to find the dog a victim of Jack's rage or running away because Dick had scared him, Damian would have killed him, and Jason probably would have let him. 

Titus wagged his tail before they even got in front of him. He was especially pleased to see his little master, plastering kisses on Damian's face as they led Titus back to the church. 

When they got there, Titus and Damian set themselves up on Jason's table like they'd never left. He'd missed that picture. He'd missed Damian. 

Unfortunately for both Jason and Damian, Jason had duties now he was reinstated as the parish priest. He had sermons to catch up on, and projects to get back in touch with, one of them being the orphanage. The sisters were understanding at least, not spurning Jason like the soup kitchen did. They organised the next Tuesday for their back on track sessions, Jason hoping Damian would be around then too so Colin could see his friend again.

He kept the kid close all day as he started getting the church back in order. Damian was just as demonic as Jason last remembered, he was off trying to scale the rafters as soon as Jason turned his back. Jason had to end up giving the kid some goblets to play with, the clanging at least warning him where Damian was. 

Nightfall, Jason was rightfully exhausted, putting a plate of spaghetti in front of Damian as he took the seat opposite. With Damian back, the last seat at the table felt even more emptier than usual. 

One good thing about Damian being back was that when Jason woke in a cold sweat in the night the little demon was there to reassure him that there was nothing to worry about. Damian didn't say it out loud. Hell, the kid didn't even wake up. But Jason knew that so long as he was the one keeping Damian from being dragged to a world without both fruit loops and Titus, Damian wouldn't let any harm come to him. That being said, Jason still had bad nights, but, at least he could sit in the dark this time without worrying whether everything he ate or heard was something coming to harm him. 

Damian was even more demanding as the days went on. Jason thought he was catching up on everything he'd missed out on, and honestly wasn't too miffed about giving it to the kid. Well, if they were harmless anyway. It kept Damian quiet when he had his paints back, never really having the chance to try them out before he was whisked off. It also kept him quiet when Jason took him over to the orphanage for a spur of the moment play date. It was somewhat adorable watching Damian posture around Colin to try and reassert his dominance. Colin just stood there and took it before poking Damian in the nose and scampering off. Kid had guts.

Alone with just the nuns it was hard not to miss Dick. There was so much he wanted to say, sorry being at the top of his list. Believe it or not, the situation with the drugs didn't bother Jason as much as he thought it would. Yes, he was more cautious with his food, but, unlike with Jack, he wasn't too bothered about the mental and physical clean up. More, he was just tired. Tired and worried. 

It had been his job to keep Dick in line. To always be the one to push the demon away. Jason was sure the reason Dick wasn't coming back at nights was because he wasn't sure what Jason was going to do. Anyone else in this situation would tell Dick to never come back, probably blame him for being the one that couldn't restrain themselves enough to do the right thing. Either that, or they would punish him, tell him that forgiveness wasn't coming without trials. But, Jason didn't feel either of those things. He knew why Dick didn't say no, why he couldn't. He understood that the last thing Dick needed right now was to be pushed away. He was just as vulnerable as Jason, maybe even more so right now. He needed to be told it was okay, that they could work through this. That there was still hope, because there was always hope. It would take longer, but Jason knew that Dick wasn't a lost cause. 

So he took Damian back with him to the apartment, sitting the kid down as soon as he cleaned Damian up. Together, albeit reluctantly on Damian's part, they drew a map of all the possible locations Dick might be hiding out. 

Surprisingly, they were all parts where kids might go to play. Jason almost thought Damian was joking with him until they came upon the fourth playground on their map. It was in the wealthier districts in Gotham. Most of the kids were at school, the ones that weren't either teenagers bunking off because they thought it looked cool or toddlers with their nannies. As soon as Jason saw that profile he ducked down behind a bush, Damian in tow, the two of them peaking through the leaves.

"I thought you wanted to see Dick," Damian said, squinting at Jason.

"I do." But Tim was there too. 

They were sitting on a bench on the opposite side of the park. Tim was doing the talking, Dick sitting there, nodding every time he had to. Jason tried to read Tim's lips, see what they were talking about. He got a few words here and there, Jason getting the gist he was saying the same speech he'd given to Jason weeks ago to Dick now. Tim was trying to justify himself, and Dick was letting him. It was surprising, and something Jason wasn't going to get in the middle of. Dick needed to do this on his own, just as Jason did. Quite frankly he was proud of Dick for sitting there. So much so he kept Damian behind the bushes until Tim finished, deflated in his seat.

Dick looked at Tim for a while, Jason watching them, ready to spring when they were done. Dick stood, turning away from Tim. He was still pretending to be human, which was a good thing since Jason needed those scant three seconds before he was out of Tim's eyesight to jump the small fence and grab a hold of Dick. His hand burned, Dick's skin like fire, but Jason still held on as he forced Dick to look at him.

He must have thought it was Tim, since as soon as he locked eyes with Jason the burning stopped, fading until the cold sting of a new wound started registering in Jason's mind. "Dick." Jason didn't know what to say. I'm sorry was ready to come out. It wasn't your fault a close second. In the end, Jason said, "Come home."

"No." But he wanted to, the pause before he spoke telling Jason that he wanted nothing more than to come home.

"I'm not mad. I'm not anything. I'm just worried about you. Please come home."

Dick turned away from him, yanking his arm out of Jason's hold. "I can't. Not yet."

It wasn't a complete no, and something Jason could work with. "Okay then. I trust you Dick. Just come home when you're ready."

Dick took a breath, his shoulders shaking slightly before he looked back at Jason. There was something there, in his eyes that Jason couldn't place. A sadness almost, regret, maybe, whatever it was, Jason got the feeling that it would be a while before they saw each other again. 

It also had Jason reminding Dick, "I trust you," hoping that was enough to spur Dick from whatever spiral he was throwing himself down. 

Dick leaned in, the kiss barely felt it was over so soon. He wasn't looking at Jason when he finished, just said, "Keep an eye on Damian. Bruce won't let you keep him for long," before he was walking away out of sight.

Jason didn't linger around himself when Dick disappeared. He could feel Tim staring at his back, the kid probably with his phone out taping the whole thing in case he needed something else to get the GCPD on Jason's back. He wasn't going to wait around for the kid to try and justify himself again. Jason was a forgiving man, but even he needed time before he had the strength to truly move past what Tim had done to him.

So Jason found Damian watching an ant hill a few metres away and took the kid home


	12. Chapter 12

Knowing that Dick wasn't coming home any time soon helped Jason focus on his job. It was still a weight on his mind, but Jason was able to content himself with the fact that now he knew that Dick was still around he could just push it to the back of his thoughts. 

He managed to scrounge up enough credibility to find a new project to focus on, one Damian helped him cultivate by being his usual adorable self. Troubled teens were always a problem in any society. Jason had been one, and he knew almost everyone in his class had been one too. Gotham hadn't gotten better in the scant years since Jason became a priest. If anything, it had gotten worse. The inspiration came to him when a teen tried to steal one of Damian's cupcakes from him. Tried being the operative word. The teen only got to the end of the street before Damian had his teeth sunk into the kids neck. 

After staunching the blood and getting the kid to calm down, he gave over his own cupcake and took Damian far, far away. When he got home, Jason made some calls and found some people to spread the word around. After that, it was just a matter of buying snacks, some soda and a few flyers to hang up before Jason had an event, hopefully a weekly one, set up.

It took a while to get Damian to agree to behave. Even then Jason didn't trust him and brought some activities down for Damian to do. When the Friday came he was surprised at the turnout. Either people had come to gawk at the priest that had made the front page more than once, or, they were desperate for some place dry since it was belting down of rain outside. Jason didn't care. People were here and that was what mattered. 

He actually had a plan for these kids other than letting them sit in the church and do nothing for a few hours. Work experience, he told them, a good chance to spruce up their CV for potential employers. While some of them scoffed at the reason for helping, none of them walked out when Jason told them they were going to be cleaning up the church top to bottom. Actually, some of them came to him after the three hours were done and told them they had parents in construction or working at this store or that. People that could help Jason fix this place up to something decent. 

He had Damian take Titus out when they got upstairs, slipping a few dollars they saved on cleaning this week for the kid to go treat himself and Colin to some ice cream. He worked on Sunday's sermon while they were gone. 

The teenagers were back in double the numbers the next week. Jason saw Colin slip himself in too, the kid thinking he was being clever as he stuck to the shadows at the back of the room. Jason sent Damian his way before Colin could get himself into some trouble with a bigger boy. He was surprised that there were more the week after. In a month, Jason felt like he was hosting half of the Narrows. The kids themselves were lovely, isolated as they were from other pressures. In the church, everyone had the same crappy job, working for the same crappy goal, and Jason learned after the first few weeks which kids to separate and which to leave be. It was nice. Even Damian's manic behavioural problems couldn't spoil the comradeship that the kids grew. They actually thought he was rather cute, probably because they were just as bad when they were Damian's age. 

At six weeks, Jason managed to fit a new window into the broken frame Jack had made. He had a little party to celebrate, the kids sneaking booze in that Jason turned a blind eye to in the promise that they wouldn't go tattling on him to their parents. At six weeks, Jason was starting to feel like himself again. He had a routine, a good routine, and his status had once more retreated back under the radar. It was only right that the universe knocked him down again.

It started with Damian. 

Monday morning, Jason woke up to screaming in his living room. He thought for a moment it was himself before the lack of sweat and terror on his body told a different story. The screaming took a turn, terror changing to rage, and before Jason knew it he had a ball of fire flinging himself through the door and over to Jason, spewing obscenities in languages Jason couldn't understand. 

He got burned, a lot. Damian was at a temperature that pained to even be near. Jason didn't know how he scrambled himself out from underneath that, but somehow he did, taking off to the living room and bolting Damian in the room to grab himself a few seconds. When he turned, Jason almost forgot to move.

There was blood everywhere. On the walls, the floor, the furniture. It was like someone had taken a tin of brown paint and flung it until there was nothing left. Jason tip toed around the puddles, some of it still red in places, the blood so thick it hadn't dried into the carpet. The screaming was like white noise as Jason rounded his sofa, his foot hitting something squishy and wet. 

He tore his foot out of it before it got all the way down, racing through the puddles without looking to reach his phone. 

The cops were next to useless again. They had his number recorded, and asked him, firstly, if he'd bent over for anyone else recently. Jason thought about hanging up, but considering Damian was screaming for vengeance in Jason's bedroom he stayed on the line to tell them that if they wanted Jason not to go to the Gazette with this then they would show up in the next five minutes.

They made it in seven. Jason was just happy they came at all.

The cops came in, well, dawdled in, with threats on their lips and their hands on their cuffs. Jason didn't greet them, just told them to come up as he tried to wipe Damian's face. The kid, in the minutes between the cops coming had managed to calm down enough to realise that Jason couldn't have been behind Titus' murder, since, that was the body in the next room. He said that Jason didn't have the stomach to go against a demon's minion, and now sat there as Jason ran another tissue over his cheeks. 

The threats stopped the moment Jason counted the steps into the living room. One of them swore, the other coming into the kitchen to make sure there weren't any other bodies that needed discovering. 

The GCPD really were useless. The first question when they got their acts together was whether Jason had been behind this attack. He barely restrained himself from punching the man, and most definitely didn't stop Damian from hissing and clawing through the cops shirt as the question was turned to him. He stopped Damian when blood was drawn, making sure the cop understood there was a thin line stopping Jason from letting Damian do that again.

They were confined to the kitchen while the cops did their job. They got other people in, more qualified people who had conspiracies coming out their ears for why a priests living room looked like a mob hit. Jason made breakfast, then lunch with no offer of refreshments for those in the next room as they called in more people. By dinner, Jason was being told he was to vacate his own home while the cops figured out what kind of message the perpetrator was sending.

"Am I getting an armed guard?" Jason asked. He thought that was procedure, since this definitely was a breaking and entering of some kind. 

"I can take you down to the cells for the night," the cop replied, the same one that had asked whether Jason and Damian had killed Titus. The same one that had been a thorn in Jason's side all day.

"No, thank you." 

He knew Damian had already witnessed the carnage in the living room, hell, the kid was half demon, he'd probably seen worse than this. Done worse too. But Damian was still a kid, so when Jason took them back through the blood stained floor he covered Damian's eyes. 

They almost made it out before  Jason's stupid curiosity got the better of him. He'd only glimpsed Titus before running to the kitchen. All of him said he would regret looking, yet, just before they made it through the doorway, Jason glanced back. 

Titus was, well, it was hard to distinguish what exactly had happened to him. Ordinarily, Jason would be able to make out some kind of weapon mark amongst the wounds. He'd grown up seeing dead bodies almost daily after all. But with Titus, it was hard to concentrate on anything other than the sheer carnage that was their dog. Jason felt sick just looking at the dedication someone must have to do this. They had managed to find a way to bypass not only Jason waking up, but Damian. They also had to silence Titus enough to actually hurt the poor boy. It was just-

Jason went over to the couch while everyone's backs were turned, picking up the feather sitting there before running back and ushering Damian to the nearest hotel.

Damian didn't talk to him the rest of the evening. Not even when Jason went out and got him a greasy burger a few streets away. He just sat there, staring at the wall. "I'm sorry," Jason kept saying, not really knowing what else to say to Damian. He could tell the kid was blaming himself. He'd long gotten past the need to blame Jason. As the night wore on Jason could see Damian forcing himself to keep awake. 

He was scared, Jason realised. Scared for himself, and of himself. This must have been the first time someone managed to slip past him. It wasn't comforting. It also raised a lot of questions as to how they slipped past Damian.

Yeah, Damian was a kid and half human, he did need to sleep, or at least enjoyed it enough to partake on a night time. But every time something had went bump in the night without Dick staying with them Damian was alert. He might not have woken the whole way, but he did seem to tense beneath his sheets, like he was ready to spring at any moment. Last night, Damian had been in with Jason, again. They alternated which days Damian stayed in the same room since the kid sometimes liked sneaking out at night to go meet Colin. But last night, Damian had definitely been in with Jason, he'd seen the kid go to sleep. Snore even, and Titus had been with them. 

It was a mystery, and one Jason didn't know whether he wanted to solve or not. Especially since Jason recognised the feather that was amongst the chaos of the living room.

He'd seen these colours countless times over the last year. They'd cocooned him when he was sleeping, littered his bed when Dick was preening. If one was there, the only person to blame for Titus' murder was Dick.

But, that didn't make any sense. Dick didn't have reason to kill Titus. He liked Titus, or, he liked what it did to Damian's temperament. Even if he did have reason to kill the dog, Titus would have made some noise when he sensed Dick. To not do so... none of this added up.

Jason mulled on it all night, and when morning came he booked another night at the hotel, telling Damian he would keep watch as he twirled Dick's feather between his fingers. 

The cops didn't let them back home until four days after the death of Titus. Jason wasn't too surprised to go home to find the body gone but his walls and floor still covered in blood. Useless. All of them.

He sent Damian into his bedroom with paints and cookies as he started on getting rid of the stench. 

It took hours before any progress was made, and by that time, Jason had to go down to the church itself to let the kids in. Damian made an appearance, which was something. Although, since the kid just sat there putting Eeyore to shame with his sad eyes and droopy head, Jason didn't think that was much progress. In fact, by the time the kids left Colin was crying just as much as Damian had been. So much so that Jason did give in this time and let him keep the cowboy hat. The nuns didn't even argue with the decision, just asked if Jason wanted them to take Damian off his hands for a few hours over the next few days. They never did return to Damian's lessons.

The reprieve from Damian's sad eyes was helpful. It let Jason get down to the gritty stuff without worrying whether he'd turn around and find the kid trying bleach again. It also meant that Jason got work done faster, and by Friday, when the teens were filing in, his apartment didn't look too much like a crime scene anymore.

This week, he had Damian over at the orphanage. He knew Colin would have sneaked around if he didn't send Damian, and since Jason really couldn't keep an eye on them in a room full of angst ridden teens he thought it best that he let Damian play with Colin and their cats for a few hours. The plan, originally, had been to get half the teens help clean the toys the kids had used on Tuesday and the others to set up for pumpkin carving they were going to be doing later. He'd wanted the whole church decked out this year, nothing too lavish inside, but a few decorations on the porch would be a step up from past years where he did nothing. He'd also wanted the kids to actually have fun, and nothing was better when he was a kid than carving the guts out of a vegetable. 

But, since Damian was still heavy on his mind, Jason scrapped the pumpkin carving and asked the teens if they wanted to help him throw a party next week for the kids. They were actually happy too, and when Jason said they could come as well he got more suggestions and offers to contribute than he thought he would. Some of these teens, he knew, were in orphanages themselves. Probably not from this area since Jason only knew about the ones the sisters ran, but orphanages all the same. They kept asking if they could invite others along, little sisters and brothers they had left behind, even parents for the ones that had some. Jason didn't really care who came, so long as they behaved and had fun. 

He knew, in the long run, Damian would probably hate so many people hanging around. But, considering Jason was setting up a place for pets to be welcomed in as well, he figured Damian would come around. 

From homemade streamers to store bought they had more than enough to pin the whole church in lavish and bright colours. Jason was working on hooking them over the rafters when his rocky ladder got another pair of hands steadying it. He glanced down to thank them and almost toppled off. Not abandoning his work, Jason hung the streamer as quickly as he could before climbing, slipping twice, down the rungs. 

Tim gave him a pained smile when he got to the ground, the kids around him not sparing him another glance as he handed Jason another set of streamers. He supposed they didn't have reason to look at Tim strangely. His rich boy clothes were gone, in their place a hoodie Jason vaguely remembered admiring in the second hand store down the street. Even Tim's trainers looked well worn, making him blend in with the others almost seamlessly. It made Jason wonder just how many weeks Tim had been coming, the thought made his skin tingle. 

Jason hung up the rest of his decorations in the hopes Tim really was here just for the Friday reprieves and left with the rest of the kids. It wasn't like Jason could blame him. Objectively, he could guess how bad it was at home right now. Tim had basically got his own father arrested. One that was now out, and if the likeness of Jason and the rest of Jack's victims were to be believed, probably fixating himself on Tim. So, really, Jason didn't blame him for being here. Once upon a time he would have loved to see Tim pitching in with the rest of these kids. But Jason had long since skipped over once upon a time. He'd been beaten and drugged far too many times in the last few months to just push aside the fear he felt at the very mention of the Drake name. 

So, when Tim dawdled until the last kid stepped out of the church, Jason considered just leaving the kid here.

"I take it this isn't a social visit," he said instead, his stupid teachings of never turning anyone away overriding his common sense.

Tim shook his head, seeming smaller now the other kids were gone. "I was hoping to talk to you."

"Like last time?" Jason challenged, some pettiness seeping into his tone. Just because he couldn't turn people away did not mean he had to stand there and let himself be walked over. 

Tim hunched further. "I swear, I didn't want to."

"But you did Tim."

"I know," The kid whined. "But Jason, my mom-"

"No Tim." See, this was his problem with rich kids. "You did it. Don't excuse yourself with your mom. You may have been under pressure, but it was your actions, your hand that put that drug into my drink. It was you who did it, and the first step to forgiveness is honesty."

He'd barely turned his back before Tim admitted, "You're right." Jason giving his attention again now they were getting somewhere. "I did do it, and I'm sorry. It was so bad what I did, and I know it's your job to forgive people, but if you want to make an exception, I'll understand."

"Thank you." Jason subtly checked the kid out for any other surprises while he got himself together. Tim was here for a reason, and since Tim had no reason now to use Jason to free his father, Jason could only assume it was something important. "So, you wanted to see me?"

Tim straightened slightly, his head nodding. Whatever it was seemed to be something hard, so Jason suggested Tim come along while Jason went to get Damian. 

The walk did both of them good. It let Tim stew in his thoughts for a while and gave Jason a place to run if things went south. Tim couldn't possibly know these streets, not like Jason did anyway.

When they got to the orphanage, Damian was still upset. Jason thanked the sisters as he took Damian's hand, the kid not arguing as they started back to the church. "Did you and Colin feed your cats?" Jason asked. So far, the cats were the only thing that got Damian talking.

"One of them was sick."

"Oh." For a while now, Jason had been considering asking Damian if he wanted to bring one of the cats back with him. Considering. He didn't know yet, after all, when Damian was going to be making another disappearance. Or, if whoever killed Titus was still lurking around. Still, looking at how miserable Damian was, it was pretty tempting to just tell him to pick one.

They made it back to the church without incident, Jason sending Damian up to put his pyjama's on. With a demon in ear shot Jason didn't feel too bad about letting Tim in. He sat the kid on the sofa, getting some vindictive pleasure in knowing that it was one of the few places Jason couldn't completely get rid of the bloodstains. He could see Tim notice them, the kid looking really desperate since he didn't move or even mention them as Jason came back over with some water.

"Feel up to talking yet?"

Tim eyed the bottle, took a swig before bursting out, "Do you believe in ghosts?"

"Ghosts?" Okay, that was unexpected. "Er, yeah, I guess." If demons existed, why not ghosts.

Tim huffed gratefully at that. "Good. That's good. If you believe then maybe I'm not going crazy."

On a closer look, Tim wasn't looking well. That wasn't just with the second hand clothes, there were dark circles under his eyes, his skin paler than normal too. At first, Jason thought that guilt might have been taking a toll on the kid, but since the mention of ghosts, he didn't know. "You think you have a ghost in your house," Jason guessed.

"No." Tim hesitated, then said, "Yes. I don't know."

"Why don't you start from the beginning."

Tim did, painting the picture back weeks ago to before all of the mess with the police started. "My dad went out. But, he usually goes out so I didn't really think much about it. When he came back though, he wasn't as mad as he usually was. He fights with mom sometimes if she's up, and she was but this time there wasn't any shouting." Tim didn't want to creep closer to see what was wrong. From experience he knew that telling them he was awake ended up with Tim being screamed at by his mom to go to bed. "So, I didn't go down, but then mom started acting weird." Weird to Tim was his parents getting along. "She started getting a bunch of books about the occult, and well, she's had hobbies like this before so I didn't think anything of it, but then these sounds started."

"What kind of sounds?"

Tim shrugged, "They change. Sometimes it's like I can hear someone talking, but then my mom replies and she told me the other day that she's started sleepwalking so... sometimes it's like clanging, or knocking. I woke up once and my room was a mess."

That definitely sounded odd. "Have you tried looking for what it is?" Actually, Jason told Tim to stay put. He wouldn't put Jack past kidnapping. "What about the cops?" Again, not the brightest thing to say. They were giving Jason a hard time and he was the innocent party in all of this. He had no doubt they wouldn't even go to the Drake premises if another call came in. 

"I know," Tim said, probably having gone through the same things Jason had. "I wanted to come ask you sooner about it, see if you had any other advice. But Dick told me not to. I- I understood why, I mean, Jason, I am so sorry. But, I just didn't know who else to come to. I mean, I thought since you guys dealt with exorcisms you would know how to get rid of ghosts. I would hear if someone was walking around my house Jason and I haven't heard anything other than the talking and clunking."

Tim was quite frazzled by all of this. So much so that Jason knew he wasn't lying.

"Look," Jason said eventually. "An exorcist is the one qualified for all that ghost and demon stuff. Trust me, if I go in I'll probably make things worse."

"But you do believe me?" Tim pressed.

Jason did, and promised to make some calls when he showed Tim out. The kid said that times wouldn't be a problem, his parents spent as little time at home as possible. Good to know.

He watched as Tim made his way to his car, the only flashy thing about him today. As soon as it was out of sight, Jason was joining Damian in their room.

"Hey kid, how'd you like to break into the Drake house?"

He finally got a smile out of Damian.


	13. Chapter 13

They staked out the Drake house for a couple of days. It wasn't as difficult as Jason thought it would be to find an excuse to be loitering around. Really, Jason used Wayne Manor as his cover. Thomas Wayne was barely seen outside of his house. Even in his house people claim that they sometimes searched everywhere and saw no sight nor sound of him. Therefore, Jason hiding behind the wall that separated Wayne manor from the Drake's was the perfect hiding spot. Thomas wasn't likely to come out and catch him. If he did, Jason had the wonderful excuse of his grandson, who was currently destroying the garden, coming to visit. It was also half a mile from the manor house itself. The Wayne grounds were huge, which meant Jason would get a good head start before the old man could catch up.

The wall itself was only good for cover. The Drake house was half as lavish but just as extreme as any manor grounds among the rich and famous. Meaning, when Jason tried spying on the front door, he only got small dots to distinguish people from. 

Nevertheless, over the course of those few days Jason learned to distinguish the dots for who they were. Tim, naturally, was the shortest of the bunch, Jason knowing that even in his recent growth spurt he only came up to his mother's neck. Tim spent the most time in the house. He would go out every now and then, but only for school, the kid not seeming to have any other extracurricular activity that would have him staying out late. Janet on the other hand, was out almost as long as her husband. The two of them would part ways with their son on a morning, before both of them were away for hours. Janet returned once during, Jason thought, was her lunch break, and again when it was well past nightfall. There were cars that sometimes brought her up to the house, men that were most definitely not Jack following her inside for an hour before retreating. Jason started to feel a new well of pity evolving for Tim. The kid was around for those hours Janet and her mysterious suitor came home. Just after the hour mark was when Jack would return home. He always drove himself, which answered what happened to the car the two of them left in on a morning. Like Tim said, not long after Jack got in shouting started up. Even from his hiding spot Jason could hear them, their voices echoing in the large empty plains that surrounded them. 

It was quite an unhappy household, one which was working to Jason's advantage as he took Damian home to make a game plan. 

It turned out Damian was a natural at breaking and entering. In under an hour, with the information Jason had gathered, the kid had a rough plan for what they should do. "Are you listening priest?"

He handed the kid a waffle in answer. 

Damian tutted before going back to his elaborate floor plan. "If you are not willing to put the effort in I will do this mission on my own. It's not like it wouldn't be simpler."

"I'm listening Damian." He sat himself down, looking over the blueprints. Damian had drawn them on his own. All it took was a short trip to city hall and Damian managed to copy a detailed map of where they were venturing. 

They went over the plan again, Damian still grumbling about doing it on his own. It wasn't like he was wrong. It would be easier if Damian did this on his own. But Jason didn't know what they were walking into, and, if his suspicions were correct, he didn't want Damian to be the one to find Dick first. It was a well known fact that Dick probably wouldn't be trying to hide himself if he was haunting the Drakes. Damian had seen Jason with Dick's feather, granted he didn't know who it was from, in fact, he was on guard now for some other angel from up high to be staking them out, but if he saw Dick, saw his wings like Jason did, he would know that Dick had been present for the attack on Titus. Jason didn't know what would happen if Damian found out, and he certainly didn't want to be present if things turned violent. Demons were destructive at the best of times, with an actual motive Jason didn't want to think what they would do.

So he convinced Damian to bring Jason along. If only so if things went wrong Damian could pin the blame on Jason. 

It worked, and by six the next morning they were staking out the Drake house again. 

Jason watched as the family said goodbye, Tim not hanging around his parents any longer than necessary. By seven, all of them were in their cars driving away, Jason giving it another ten minutes in case they had forgotten something before hauling Damian and himself over the wall. 

Damian was fast an efficient. He got in and unlocked the door in seconds, the kid telling Jason there were still some servants on the upper floors so the alarm wouldn't be going off yet. They both knew their mission, Jason sending Damian on a hunt for those occult books Tim had talked about as he sough to searching the lower floors. 

From Tim's plight, he'd made it sound like the voices had been coming from the lower floors. It would certainly be convenient. In a house this high, loud noises would boom through the floors if someone was upstairs. Even as Jason walked he could hear the footsteps of maids as they cleaned up the mess the Drakes had left behind. Convenient, really, for someone breaking in. 

Jason started with the rooms near the stairs. Sound would be more likely to carry here than anywhere else in the house. The first few doors led to lavish living rooms. Jason almost rolled his eyes at how much crap the Drakes had inside. It wasn't like it was cluttered. But rich people, he'd found, seemed to have a need to buy useless and unimportant things because they thought it made them look good. Jason passed by four vases before he started wondering why they were there if they weren't ever going to be used. 

The fourth room near the stairs led to a study where Damian was hard at work rooting through the hardbacks. It was something else watching the kid work. Unlike the other times Jason had seen Damian searching for something, this time he was careful. He seemed to barely touch the room around him as he shifted a book minutely to the left and back. It made a change from the disaster zone that was Jason's bedroom when Damian couldn't find his cat hoodie this morning. 

The fifth, and last room near the stairs was just a cupboard. One the maids seemed to use since it was currently unlocked and missing half of its cleaning supplies. 

Not disheartened in the least, Jason went back to work. Stairs had always been his first priority in the search, but Jason had lived long enough to know there were other ways that sound carried. If it wasn't from inside the house that Tim was hearing these noises then the sound must be carrying outside. It was a risk this part of the mission. One Jason had hoped he wouldn't have to do as he climbed the stairs as silently as he could to the second floor. 

He discarded the rooms on the left side of the manor immediately. Tim's room had to have been on the left, the left faced the gardens after all, and gardens meant a window, which always let through sound. 

Jason hid himself in one of the rooms, knowing that time was ticking but wasn't sure how else to find out where about he should start looking. In a manor this big not all of the rooms would be used. Jason was sure at some point the maids had made an agreement with themselves to only clean the rooms that were used daily and leave the others for a time where the dirt would most definitely be noticed if the masters of the house went in. It was what Jason would do. From just swiping his finger along one of the bookcases in the room he was in Jason knew his suspicions were true, and kept himself near the door as the maids bustled about in front of it. 

He listened, noting the pattern they were walking as well as how long they spent there. It only took ten minutes before Jason found an opening and was creeping along the rooms one by one until he was staring at what had to be Tim's room.

It looked like a typical teenagers cave. In essence, messy and needing to be aired badly. While his parents might not have been hoarders, Tim was definitely on his way to becoming one. There was a camera set up at one of his windows, pictures upon pictures, taped around the walls around it. Jason recognised a few of them as Tim's gardens or the Wayne's. There were no pictures of friends here. No smiling candid shots of other teens. The only people on Tim's wall were Alfred, which Jason wondered about the inspiration behind, and the Joker. 

Jason marked the bedroom in his head as he backed out, knocking a notebook over as he did. He caught a brief glimpse of more photos as he gathered them back up into the lined pages. One of them caught his eye, his own face greeting him. The others were of him too, all of them caught from the window of his bedroom. Half of them he was shirtless in, which had Jason cringing just looking at them, while the others were of him trying to wrangle Damian into his clothes for the day. All of them were recent, they had to have been taken in the past few weeks since Jason couldn't see Dick in any of them. He put them back, telling himself he had more important things to be doing than wondering about this development. 

He made it downstairs with no hassle, the maids moving onto the other side of the manor where Jason assumed Jack and Janet slept. He didn't spare a thought to those arrangements, narrowing down the rooms where Tim would be more likely to hear the clinking from. There were four of them, the first two, again, more living rooms. The third, Jason huffed a laugh at. It was locked.

Now, Jason wasn't all that proud of his talents. He'd learnt half of them for necessity, because to not know how to do them would mean he would either starve or be left beaten in an alley somewhere. Yet, right now, Jason couldn't help but be impressed with the ease his mind remembered how to pick a lock.

The room beyond wasn't what Jason had been expecting. Really, he'd been thinking of a looming dungeon full of candles and chains, with blood plastered on the wall and a skull alter at the edge. Instead, Jason came face to face with a rather nice ballroom. He remembered on the blueprints this was the smaller of the two the Drakes had in their house. One which would hardly ever be used. 

He shut the door quickly behind him, mostly so he wouldn't be caught, slightly because he needed something to lean against. While it wasn't a dungeon, the Drakes had done their best to turn what had to be a rather nice room into something sick. There were markings everywhere. Chalk lined symbols along with a list of names were scratched out along the floor and walls. He saw his own name listed amongst them, a circle still present over it while others had been lined over. He took a moment to read them, trying to figure out why they looked so familiar. It was only when he saw Tim's name that Jason realised these were Jack's victims. 

Tim had said they wouldn't give a statement. Looked like Janet had made it her duty to be the mastermind behind that. 

It still didn't explain the circle around his own name. 

He walked in further, the light the high windows gave off somehow wrong as Jason found the books Damian was currently searching for. He picked up one, skipping through the pages on necromancy and black magic as he noted which Janet had deemed worthy of annotating. 

He kept the book in hand, scouring the room again as he got back to his mission. He looked high and low, somehow hoping that there was some invisible bubble or trick wall he was overlooking. Yet, nothing. There was no sign of Dick anywhere. 

Jason was surprised. Given the state of the room he'd thought the Drakes were arming themselves against a demon's retribution. He'd been sure that, given the time alone, Dick would be here messing with them. Maybe feeding them some wrong information. It felt like what Tim had said had merely been Dick playing with them, and giving them false information on demons would probably rank high on his list of ways to do so. 

Yet, Jason had been mistaken. 

He sighed, heading back to the books and figuring he may as well take something for his efforts. Not to mention he'd told Damian this was the whole reason they were here. 

Jason was picking up the fourth book just as his eyes decided to focus on the wall next to his name again. There was something off about it. More than just his name being there. It seemed, displaced somehow. 

It took longer than Jason would like to admit before he saw the handle poking out just below the circle dotted around his name. Some part of him didn't want to look. The clinking could still very well be a girl, or boy, Jack had brought home to avoid another incident like Jason occurring. He knew by all rights if that was the case it was his duty to help. But, the more he focused on the door the more he had visions of himself being locked up too. It wasn't like anyone would care. The teens would be confused, the kids too, but they would get over it in a few weeks. It wasn't like people didn't up and disappear all the time in Gotham. Jason wasn't high profile, he was just a priest with a shady past. He could turn up dead and no one would pay him another glance.

His courage won out.

The door wasn't locked, but the handle was clean, cleaner than it should have a right to be for an unused ballroom. Even if they were using this for some kind of hit list, the handle could have stayed dirty, even in places. Yet this one was shining with use. Recent use too as greasy fingerprints still showed up along the bright brass. Jason ended up covering his hand with his sleeve before touching the handle. He could feel the chill of the metal through the fabric.

The door twisted with ease, no lock keeping it shut, which made Jason recount his thoughts of kidnapping. At least until he saw what was inside. 

Dick stared back at him, crouched and cramped on a small circle that had been etched into the small space of the ballroom cupboard. His blue eyes were gone completely, fire boring into Jason, an anger he'd never seen on Dick since their first encounters hissing in the air around them. The fire faded when Dick calmed enough to see Jason. They retreated back to wide blue eyes, Dick starting forward before something held him back. 

The cupboard was small, barely big enough for one person. Jason quickly found the source of the clinking as he took in the metal dangling above Dick's head. They were swaying slightly, something dripping off and onto Dick, sizzling when it made contact. Jason didn't try touching it, instead, he got to figuring out how to get Dick out.

"What happened? I thought you needed time alone not-" Something in Dick's face stopped him. A gratefulness Jason couldn't place. "Dick, how long have they had you here?"

Nothing. Dick didn't talk back to him the whole time Jason let his mouth run wild with questions. He thought for a moment Dick was embarrassed, maybe too traumatised, before those ideas went out the window. Dick wasn't embarrassed, and he certainly wasn't traumatised, he was angry, and growing angrier the longer he didn't talk back to Jason. Namely because he couldn't. He hadn't noticed it when he first saw Dick, too focused on this horrific set up the Drakes had made for him, but now he was looking for a way to break Dick out, at the symbols that surrounded these walls too, he saw what he'd missed before. There, just at the corner of his mouth, was a small symbol. There was a black substance underneath, like coal, that sometimes oozed out in tiny drops the more Dick worked his jaw to talk. 

"Fuck it," Jason hissed, not caring now if someone saw him. 

He raced through the Drake house, following the floor plan Damian had shown him, until he came to the kitchen. A bucket was easy to find along with a knife, Jason filling it to the brim with water before running back to Dick. He doused the chalk, glad to see it fading and disappearing as Jason scrubbed his foot over it. The etchings were harder to break, joined into the floor itself by some kind of chisel. But Jason managed well enough with the knife to chip away at the perfect symbols until they were corrupted. 

As soon as they were, Dick was on his feet, grabbing Jason in a whisk of smoke until they were standing miles from the Drake house.

"Damian's still inside," Jason said, finding his footing.

Dick didn't even move, his eyes glowing slightly more brightly than usual before Damian was there before them and gazing up at Dick. He held his hands up like it wasn't unusual for Dick to just appear like this, and let himself be carried the rest of the way back into main Gotham.

It took hours for them to get back to the church. Dick wouldn't let Jason call them a cab, and he certainly couldn't whisk them away again. He was weak, the Drakes or the traps draining Dick of his energy. Jason had to take Damian off him about half way, and by the time they were at the church Dick was being half carried by Jason too.

Jason sent Damian off to change, taking Dick into the kitchen to sort out the symbol on his face. He tried wiping it first, just to get a good look at it, but Dick flinched before Jason could get the cloth to his mouth. The liquid dripping down the metal chains made more sense now, Jason knowing without having to ask that it was holy water. He set the cloth down, using his fingers instead to wipe away the black drops. 

"I don't think I can get this off without hurting you," Jason said.

Dick nodded, taking the initiative before Jason to grab one of his knives. He made to retreat, probably to the bathroom to do it himself, before Jason took the knife off him.

"I'll do it. Just sit." He would probably be sick at the end of this, but it was for Dick.

He talked the whole time he was doing it, both to make himself calm and to ward Damian off from interfering. The kid himself had wandered in three times under the pretence of looking for food. Really, he was scowling at Dick's mouth, muttering curses in latin as he went back to the living room.

Dick didn't flinch as the knife did its work. He just sat still until Jason could carve out the chunk of skin that stopped him from talking. 

Jason flushed the skin away along with the sick he brought up when he was done. Dick, of course, didn't show any sign of being hurt when he got himself back together. His skin was once again smooth and unblemished, his mouth working wide circles as he got used to being able to move his lips again.

They didn't talk about the important things. Like what the hell happened to Dick. Instead, Jason left Dick alone, letting him familiarise himself with the apartment again. He could see Dick tip toeing around, the two of them not forgetting what happened the last time they were here. Jason, for his part, had forgiven Dick. There had been nothing to forgive. Dick on the other hand, hadn't exactly looked like he'd had that time to realise this. 

He was hesitant about going anywhere Damian wasn't, following the kid around until it grew dark. When Jason finally sent Damian off to bed, he cornered Dick in the living room. "You can sit," Jason said, taking a seat himself.

It made something inside him ache at the way Dick stood another two minutes before joining him. 

"It wasn't your fault," Jason reiterated. They both had to get this out of the way. The Drakes could be pushed to the side for now. 

Sure enough, "I should have walked away. I've done so before."

"Yeah, but I wasn't gagging for it before." Even when he woke up hard, he didn't really want it, he'd kept Dick at arms length. "Dick, what happened, it wasn't your fault. It wasn't either of our faults." He sighed, knowing this wasn't going to make a difference. They were always going to blame themselves for what happened, the trial now was moving past it. "Look, what happened, we can't change it. No amount of blame will make it better. What will, is you coming home and working with me so you never have to put someone on their back again."

"You really want to help me?" Like Tim, it was like Dick thought Jason would just abandon him.

"Of course I do. I know you have good in you. I've seen it. I'm not going to leave you just because you made a mistake. Dick, you've done far worse things than hump me in a bathroom. If I can forgive that, I can forgive this."

Dick hugged him. It was more than out of relief, Jason knew. Dick was feeling him out, testing his reaction to the casual touch. Jason didn't even flinch as Dick touched him, just wrapped his arms loosely around Dick in return. 

It relaxed more into a genuine hold, Dick scooting forward until he was shaking slightly, leaning most of his weight on Jason. "We have to talk about what happened," Jason said after a while. It had been on his mind since he'd seen Dick again. "You should have told me." He suspected they had a hold of Dick for more than a while. Probably since he first saw Dick at the park with Tim. He'd thought the interaction was out of place. Dick had been so mad, yet he'd listened to Tim when he made his half hearted apology. Tim had said Dick had intercepted him on his way to see Jason. From experience with the Drakes Jason wouldn't put it past them to make Dick ward Tim off from informing anyone else of the strange goings on at Drake manor. 

"I wanted to."

If he didn't, the Drakes must have had something big on him. "What did they do?" Jason asked anyway.

Dick told him. He spent hours recounting his horrific capture by the Drakes. By the end, Dick was spitting fire, and Jason wasn't far behind him.

He managed to calm Dick down anyway, the two of them too wiped to do anything right now. 

He got Dick to join him under the covers, the demon not protesting now he knew Jason wasn't going to throw him out tonight. It was late, hours before Damian would wake, and Jason couldn't help asking Dick to get his wings out, his skin having missed the soft feathers in their weeks apart. Dick complied, nuzzling the back of Jason's neck, the two of them pretending that nothing bad had happened, that there was nothing that needed addressing or talked about when Jason woke up. 

He slept later than usual. Dick was gone when he blinked awake, Damian too, the two of them putting a small fire out in Jason's kitchen. He watched them for a while, namely because he didn't want to die from smoke inhalation. The fire had died down to nearly a small flame again when Jason's phone rang.

He answered, Gordon on the other end telling him to come to the station straight away.


	14. Chapter 14

_The night Jason was reintroduced to Damian was the night the Drakes found out about Dick._

"I have to go," Jason said, grabbing his coat. He didn't even think about changing until Dick herded him towards his clothes. Really, he didn't think the cops would mind him showing up in his underwear. They had certainly detained him in them before. 

"Do you want me to come with you?" Dick asked, shoving his own set of sweats on as he helped Damian into his shoes.

The offer was tempting. Really tempting. Enough so that he didn't even put up a fight about how it would look for Jason to show up with his supposed lover in tow. 

He didn't drive. It would have been quicker, but Damian had spilled some kind of gunk all over his dashboard. Last time he'd turned it on it had made some weird clicking noise, and Jason did not want to spend the time waiting for roadside assistance. So they walked, Dick doing his best to keep Damian away from traffic. 

When they got there, instead of being seen to right away, Jason was told to have a seat, the cop pointing to a bench where other, more handcuffed, individuals were perched. He wondered if that was some kind of hint, one Jason debated running away from before his courage won out. He went over, making sure Damian stayed well away from everyone else. Especially when he started giving them tips and picking the locks. 

_Jack Drake found out about Dick first. He'd glimpsed the wings and fire blue eyes that was Dick in a rage. He'd witnessed Jason disappearing, his body on the street where his voice, moments ago, was behind the door. The confusion had been enough to stem his perverse nature for the night._

"What do you think they want you for?" Dick asked. He had Jason's hand clutched tight in his own. It wasn't anything weird, just a promise that Dick was here, that he wasn't going anywhere again any time soon. 

"No idea." Gordon hadn't exactly been very informative on the phone. He'd only told Jason to come to the station, no explanation, no warning that he might be walking into some kind of trap. "Maybe they've finally decided to do their job right and give me an armed guard for a few days." A small hope if any. Even if they did, Jason didn't exactly need one anymore. He trusted Damian and Dick to tell him if something was going on. Hell, he trusted Dick to take care of it before it even became a problem. 

Minutes ticked by, Damian growing tired of sitting still and starting to test his boundaries. He started by being cute, he always started that way, leaning over Dick to lay his head on Jason's lap. Comfortable in his lounge, he subtly tried reaching for the handcuffs again, Jason batting him away every time he got close.

_Jack must have went home with that image in his head. Of something inhuman hanging around Jason. A barrier, really, between Jack and what he wanted. Jason didn't think many of Jack's victims had ever escaped him before. He thought, if analysing the why for Dick's capture, that it was the sheer audacity they had to try and oppose him that put Dick in Jack's line of sight._

_Regardless, when Jack got home that night, from what Tim told him, Jason was sure what they were discussing in low tones was Dick. What he was. What happened with Jason, and what they could do about it._

Damian made a game of trying to evade Jason's hands, managing to yank the criminal next to Jason three times so severely that he was getting side eyed when he finally tipped Damian off. 

Dick didn't come to either of their rescues as Damian ran off to pester the cops. Instead, he held Jason back and told him to let Damian be. Jason promised that if they were going to be called over because Damian killed someone, Dick was taking full responsibility for the kid. 

_It took getting Dick back for Jason to realise Janet had always known what her husband got up to. He supposed, in a household where it was either them or you, Janet would always choose them. The arguments made much more sense when looked at it in this new light. As did the affairs. A man such as Jack, ordinarily, would have been furious if his wife was seeing other men. But, if they had an arrangement in place, Jason could see how the both of them would just let the other be, at least so long as they kept a low profile._

_With Jason being Jack's target Janet must have dove herself head first into looking for a way to remove Dick from their path. In any other world, Jason was sure that the prospect of demons or the supernatural would have been stupid to even contemplate. But they lived in a world where Atlanteans and Amazons' were contemplating war, the supernatural wasn't much of a stretch when someone wrapped their heads around that idea._

_The search, he knew, was half hearted at best. Janet would have snatched Dick much sooner if she was serious about it. Yet, somehow, Jason thought Janet was merely using the research as a way to keep her husband calm, to send him off to other avenues. He hadn't made another attempt on Jason after all._

"This is taking ages," Dick whined. He'd taken Damian's place in Jason's lap, his foot crossed over his knee on the other chair and kicking ever so threateningly to the criminal that had recently taken the seat next to him.

"I know." Yet Jason was secretly glad for it. If it had been serious they would have dragged him in straight away. Or, they would have thrown him in the holding cells. Since he was still sitting here, trying to catch a glimpse of Damian wreaking havoc, he was starting to think they were merely checking in. 

It wasn't unheard of. In fact, they should have done so much sooner. Usually, when someone's house got mauled like Jason's did, they would leave when they were finished and check in with the victim a few days later. It was to make sure that nothing else had happened. That they hadn't seen anything suspicious. But, this was Gotham.

"We should have brought snacks," Jason sighed, shifting lower in his seat so he could cradle Dick more comfortably.

Dick didn't answer back, too busy holding back a grin as his foot made contact with the criminal. Jason started wondering if he should think about batting Dick off too.

_It all came to a head the moment Jack got arrested._

_Janet, at the time, was probably pleased with how things were progressing. In the early days, Jason had seen headlines of both mother and son taking trips to the police station to give their statements. He was sure, at first, Janet had been all for getting her husband out of her life._

_Then the lawyers got involved. Jason actually wondered if what Tim had said about the family's money and company were true. That Jack really had, at the beginning of his career, decided he was going to strip it from his family should anything happen to him. To give himself insurance. Or, whether he'd had a lawyer draw up that clause in the middle of the night in order to get his family to stand by him._

_Either way, Janet's world was crumbling._

Around noon, Damian was dragged back over to them with handcuffs on his small wrists and a put out cop grumbling about cocaine packets. Damian looked delighted as he squirmed his way onto Dick's stomach, his little wrists slipping easily out of the space the handcuffs couldn't grasp.

"Keep him out of the evidence locker please," the cop said, storming off to the back rooms.

Damian didn't seem to hear him, too fascinated with finding things to lock up with his new weapon.

_She caught Dick when he was shopping for sequins. He'd decided to go to the upper districts since no stores around the Narrows actually sold fabric or proper sewing materials._

_She'd done her research, and managed to grab Dick with a demon trap before he knew what was happening. Everything had been planned for, the transportation, the room. She'd even had a magic user on hand to bind Dick to the list of names on the door. At Janet's command, Dick had been visiting Jack's victims one by one, to silence them. He couldn't kill them, a list of people that Jack had raped suddenly turning up dead would be enough for not even Gotham's police to ignore._

_Jason had been the toughest one to handle. He'd already been pulled in by the police, he'd been listening to them talk about their crimes for weeks. If Jason wanted to, he could send both of them away for years. The only way she could silence Jason, or, at least discredit him, was if she could make him out to be a liar. She'd tried to force Dick to do it of his own accord at first. But, Dick had shown surprising restraint. Restraint Jason had never been prouder of._

_Eventually she sent Tim in with the drugs and, well, Jason knew what happened there._

Jason spent ten minutes trying to separate Damian from a cop that had wandered over. The keys were still with the cop that had brought Damian back, which meant Jason had to rely on his lock picking skills to get his little demon back. Needless to say, he got more than a dirty look from the cop when she stormed off, free from Damian.

"That's it," Jason huffed, telling Dick to keep a real eye on Damian as he went over to the front desk. The man behind it didn't even look at Jason, too busy playing a game on his phone. Jason cleared his throat, giving up on the third cough and instead just demanded to be seen to. "It's been four hours, I have things to do today." Namely, getting Damian away from the guns. "Just tell me why I'm here or I'm leaving."

The guy sighed, picking up the GCPD's intercom like it was the heaviest thing in the world and started buzzing around. Whatever was said on the other side had the guy finally looking Jason over, a disbelieving twinkle in his eyes as he sent Jason back to his seat with the promise that Gordon was going to get to him soon.

Jason contemplated just leaving anyway. There was no real reason for why he was here, that was apparent. Yet, patience won out, so he took his seat and let Dick lean his head back on him.

_She had kept Dick even after freeing her husband. She found him useful, handsome even, until she realised what it meant sleeping with a demon. After that, she kept him at an arms length, not removing herself entirely when she had company since the view was still good, but she didn't touch him again._

_She was pondering what to do with him when Jason started proving he was still a pest. Tim had started asking about the noise Dick made, the holy water that would burn him, that dripped and clanked as she added another round that night. Janet had known without being told who Tim would go to about his worries. The only thing was, she couldn't let Tim get to the church, if he did, Jason would know about Dick. She took Jason for weak, not an idiot._

_Dick intercepted Tim before he could make it past the park. He was still bound to do what Janet wanted, and in the least violent way possible he managed to persuade Tim to hold off going to the church. When he got back, after leaving Jason, he'd been silenced by that rune on his mouth. Tim had mentioned seeing Jason at the park, and, not wanting to be found out, she made sure Dick couldn't ask for help._

_She'd went a step further and made sure Jason was busy with other things. Like Titus. The order, when Dick relayed it, had been to get Damian. She'd wanted something so catastrophic that Jason would be too busy and too scared to even think about going out of the church. Unfortunately, when telling Dick what he had to do, Dick managed to find a loophole in her words and went for Titus instead._

_Dick wasn't let out much after that. He was just left, in that cupboard in the ballroom, while the Drakes fought and lived their lives._

It took Gordon another hour before calling them through the precinct. Jason had to leave Dick and Damian in the main area as Gordon, white faced and as serious as ever led Jason to one of the interview rooms. He stopped them before going inside.

"He's shaken," Gordon said. "Insistent too. Wouldn't speak a word until you came. Even now he's not talking." Gordon sighed, his fingers itching in that familiar way that spoke of having a cigarette in them. "Ordinarily, I wouldn't even let you in, but, this kid... we need to know what happened."

Gordon unlocked the room, letting Jason go in, unsupervised. He'd already figured out it would be Tim on the other side. There was no other kid that would personally request him and get away with it. Jason thought he was going to be looking at some kind of grand theft auto, or even a runaway. 

The first thing he noticed about Tim wasn't the grease on his fingers as he figured out how to hot wire a car because there was none. It wasn't his hoodie and trainers that he'd used as a disguise to sneak around the Narrows because they weren't there too. The first thing he noticed about Tim was the black circles on his neck. Circles wasn't the right word, blotches more accurate. They spanned the expanse of his skin, standing out in stark contrast to his far too white skin. Jason recognised them as bruises, fingers in fact when he got a closer look. He'd seen the same on his own neck when he'd been a kid, when someone bigger, and older decided they wanted to try and squeeze the life out of him. 

"They said you wanted to see me," Jason started with. He took a seat next to Tim, the chair just as uncomfortable as the last time he'd been here. 

The kid nodded. "You would believe me," he mumbled, his pale blue eyes fixed on his hands, both of which were on top of the table in front of them. They were stained, black under the nails where the most would have gotten, then fading lighter and lighter until chipping when it reached his elbows. Blood. 

Jason waited for Tim to talk. To even look at him. Jason could feel a clock ticking the more Tim just sat there and stared at his hands. "You want to tell me what happened Tim?" He tried for gentle, hoped he got it because Tim didn't look like he was in any state to defend himself right now. "You know I always have an ear open for you."

Tim didn't move for what felt like an age. Jason knew Gordon was going to come in any moment. If he wasn't watching from behind the glass he would be itching to see if Jason had succeeded where he failed. 

Jason sighed, trying to think of another way to reach Tim when the faintest of trembles started in Tim's shoulders. They grew bigger and bigger until Tim was shaking, an ugly sob breaking out of his throat. Another followed, Tim almost screaming as he clutched his hands around his middle.

"Tim?" Jason was up, ready to get Gordon as his shirt was grabbed, Tim burrowing himself in Jason's front. 

"They're dead." It was barely heard over the wracking cries, Tim clutching harder as he repeated, "They're dead."

"Your parents?" Jason guessed, since, an antisocial kid like Tim probably wouldn't be this cut up about anyone else.

The nod came, Jason's shirt getting blood rubbed into the fabric as Tim sought for some kind of comfort. 

It took a while to calm the kid down. Eventually, Gordon came in showing that this wasn't the first time that Tim had broken down as put the kid back in his seat and told him to breathe. Water was brought in, Tim growing more frantic as he looked at the hands in front of him. Gordon stuck by the panic, the weeping and screaming until Tim was back to his dead eyed stare at nothing.

"He tell you anything?" Gordon asked.

Jason shook his head. "He just told me what happened before he broke down."

Gordon huffed, refilling Tim's cup before giving them another five minutes. 

Jason didn't waste any time, not even caring if they were watching from behind the scenes. He slid on next to Tim again, getting the kid to look at him, telling him, again, that he was here to listen, that Tim could talk to him. "I'll believe you Tim, you know that, you said it yourself."

Tim's hands clenched, another meltdown looking imminent as he said, "There was a knife. It was Dick, Jason, I swear. I don't know- he made me- the blood," He started screaming again, Gordon coming in almost immediately.

Jason didn't hang around to listen to more. Not waiting for Gordon to catch him, he ran through the winding corridors until he got to the main room. Dick was there, Damian too, the two of them sitting there as calm as they could be. Jason wanted to think it was impossible for Dick to have done that, to have killed them. He was with Jason all night after all. Except the hours Jason was asleep. 

Dick could be quiet when he wanted to be. He could sneak past Damian and snap Titus' neck without making a sound. He could have been in and out of the Drake's residence in under ten minutes. It wasn't like he didn't have motive.

His feet took him over, Jason grabbing Damian, ignoring the put out kicks Damian aimed at his stomach. "We're leaving," Jason heard himself say, taking Dick's hand and leading them home. 


	15. Chapter 15

Dick chatted the whole time they walked home. Jason would have thought it guilt had he not seen Dick feel guilt before. Next to Jason, right now, wasn't a Dick that was stuck hating himself for his actions. As he pointed out the squirrels that had decided to converge on a tree he was as far from guilt as Jason had ever seen. This was a Dick that saw nothing wrong, and it was because of that Jason kept his mouth shut. 

Damian disappeared before they got to the church, sprouting some kind of lie about leaving his new trainers at the orphanage. While Damian had done exactly that, Jason lamenting the evening Damian did return with scrapes on his toes, he also knew that Damian wasn't going for the trainers. Either he and Colin had something cooked up that Jason was going to be spending more time at the GCPD for, or he was going to see his cats.

Jason was praying for the cats.

"Be back by ten," He called as Damian disappeared in a poof of shadows. 

"He's going to be back by midnight now you've said that," Dick pointed out.

"I know." He'd learnt that the first time he'd tried laying boundaries down for Damian. "But it means he won't be out all night." Damian loved to spite Jason, so he would come back, just not the time Jason said so. He felt rather proud of himself when he learned how to play Damian.

They got up to the apartment, Jason making a snack for when Damian came home. He watched Dick the whole while, waiting for him to ask. The way home, Dick hadn't drew attention to the fact Jason hadn't told them what was going on. He would like to think that Dick had seen him worried, with bloody hand prints spattered around his shirt, and decided to not say anything. But, Jason couldn't help remembering when he had done something wrong as a kid. How, when it had come for his dad finding out, he liked the subject to be brought up by Willis rather than ask for his beating any sooner. Dick could very well be doing that. 

Or- "How are you feeling?" Jason asked.

Dick perked up on the sofa, his head tilting slightly as he weighed his answer. "Better."

Jason stopped himself from narrowing his eyes, even from walking closer, he just stood there, slicing Damian's sandwich. "Better enough to fetch takeaway? I don't feel like cooking today."

Dick winced, getting up anyway. His need to please was the same as before at least. Dick stood there for at least two minutes before anything happened, even then, his body only slightly merged with the shadows before solidifying again. He tried again, and again, before sending a sorrowful look Jason's way. "I er- can call it in?"

"I'll do it," Jason waved off.

It had been the same yesterday. Dick's escape from the Drake house had been the last bout of pure energy he could muster. Healing used a lot of his reserves, and since he'd been starved when Janet grew bored of him, and tortured by means that surpassed the holy water dripping on him some days, when Jason had asked him to get Damian down from the rafters the night before Dick had to actually climb up. 

it wasn't that he disbelieved Dick now. If Dick could poof away he could poof away. When he had been in trouble with Jason before he'd had no problem showing just who was the superior being in this relationship. Right now, the fact Dick couldn't go down the street how he used to because his body was still healing, showed that there was no way he could have disappeared last night. Not without Jason waking anyway, or leaving as soon as Jason had dropped off.

If that was the case, Dick only had five hours to get to and from the Drake house and commit the murders. It was doable, but, again, it drew into question how, or even why. Dick had said the night before that he was desperate to put the fear of God into them. He had wanted to be at his full faculties before venturing back over to the Drake house. Jason had dissuaded him from murder outright, but Dick had made it clear that he hadn't wanted to do something as measly as kill them. If he did, he'd wanted it to be drawn out, painful, like what they had done to him. This sudden death didn't seem like it would be something Dick would set out to do.

Then again, he was angry. Anger had the best of people acting irrational. Maybe, in the long hours of Jason's slumber, Dick had decided he didn't want to wait, he didn't want to torture them, that he was scared enough to just want them gone. They had demon traps, they could capture him again if they wanted, and to Dick, that must have been terrifying. That humans could use him in that way would have his pride bursting at the seems. 

While Dick would really only have a two hour gap between the three hour commute from the church and back, if he had wanted to, he could have done it. 

He ordered take out. The delivery guy forgot to charge them, again, when he came up, disappearing with a glaze over his eyes as Dick waved him off. His appeal was still there at least. They ate at the table. Well, Jason did, Dick just sat there and watched him like he usually did. Jason had missed this. He hoped to God that Dick hadn't murdered the Drakes because he'd missed this, so much. It seemed downright cruel that Jason only got Dick for barely a day before something happened. If Jason ever did earn his way up there he was expecting some kind of reward for all the crap God seemed to throw his way recently. 

He polished off a second plate before working up the courage to say, "The Drakes are dead."

Dick stilled, staring at Jason for a while before asking, "How?"

"Tim said you did it," he tried for casual.

"I didn't," Dick said straight away. "I- Jason I didn't."

"I believe you," Jason said, because, he did. While, yes, Dick did have motive and means, Jason believed him. Dick would own up if he did something. That, and he wouldn't start on a tirade about how robbed he felt at not being the hand behind the Drake's murders if he had done it.

Dick ranted into the night. Long enough for Damian to come back, see Dick angry, and think it high time to rid themselves of the 'priest' that had been weighing them down for too long now. Jason managed to deal with Damian, handing him his sandwich and a glass of warm milk that had him dozing before he could even think about getting a knife. The same didn't work for Dick. It took hours, and Dick trying to fade in and out until he collapsed, before he calmed enough to sit down again.

"They deserved so much worse," Dick muttered.

Jason didn't argue against that. As much as his job would argue no one deserved a fate like the Drakes, the more vindictive part couldn't help agreeing with Dick. "At least it's over."

Dick huffed, "Yeah, because Tim's going to let this go. That brat's going to drag us into this again Jason. He's already accused me. How long do you think it's going to take before they come knocking, before Tim mentions your name too. You were at the manor after all. They have camera's. They've probably seen you break in."

Oh, Jason didn't think of that. He'd been so focused on avoiding the actual people in the manor that he'd forgotten the camera's. It probably had something to do with the fact that they didn't worry about things like that in the Narrows. The ones that were there didn't look over anything helpful, and most of them were broken or vandalised beyond repair. 

Gordon probably had Jason in for more than comforting Tim now that he thought on it. He'd just walked out too. Why they hadn't phoned back up was a mystery. Then again, Tim had probably started talking. That would be enough to keep them occupied for a while. 

"We should leave," Dick said. 

"I can't."

"Jason-"

"I can't." The church wouldn't let him relocate anywhere. Not after the scandal's he'd caused. He was already on thin ice with them. "We just, need to think of a way that removes us from suspicion. Maybe we can track down the Batman. He helped before, he might be already searching for what really happened."

"Thomas won't help," Dick argued.

"I didn't say Thomas I said- wait." Huh. Well, this a turn for the books. "So, Bruce's dad is Batman?"

"And his mom's the Joker," Dick informed like this wasn't finally clicking in place for Jason.

"So that's why Bruce hangs around her." Why the Batman was at his window too. Uh, suddenly, the idea that Jason had been fending off one of the most hardened criminals in Gotham made his stomach turn. Why Thomas hadn't just stormed in and knocked Jason out to get to Damian was a mystery. He shook himself out of that spiral. "Okay. Bruce later. We need a way to prove that we were nowhere near the Drake house for the murders."

"We weren't," Dick pointed out. Which, was true Jason supposed. But, saying that they both had watched each other sleep for eight or so hours was beyond impossible even for Gotham.

They spent all night coming up with different ideas on how to ward the GCPD from thinking they were involved. When the sun finally came through the window, Jason wasn't even surprised when a knock came from downstairs.

"Stay here," He said, grabbing some cereal on the way to hand to a sleepy Damian.

Gordon was on the other side, he looked just as tired as Jason, the same bloody hand prints on his person that Jason had yesterday. "Can I come in?"

He let the guy past, following him dutifully up the stairs. Gordon took a quick look around, his lips pursed as he focused on Damian and Dick watching him from the kitchen. "Good to see you got the blood out," Gordon said.

It took a minute to remember the last images the GCPD had on his apartment was when Titus had been dismembered over it. "Thanks." 

Beverages were offered and denied, Gordon taking a hesitant seat on Jason's couch before starting. "As you know, yesterday morning Jack and Janet Drake were murdered."

"Tim did mention it." He had to bite his lip from saying anything else on the matter. This wasn't the time to be smart. Nor was it the time to be pleased. People were dead, that was never a cause for celebration. 

"He also said, later, that Dick was the one to do it." Here, Gordon focused his gaze into the kitchen, Dick meeting his stare head on. It only lasted a second, Gordon relaxing once more before divulging, "Of course, we know this is false. I just wanted to be the one to tell you that we won't be calling Dick in for questioning."

"Seriously?" Jason was sure, he'd been positive, that even bloodied up as Tim was if he said Dick had done it they would have had Dick arrested and trialled without giving Tim another look. 

Gordon nodded, "Apart from the evidence we have, and the fact the kid was still stabbing his father when we arrived at the scene, Tim was raving about demons." 

Jason saw Dick cringe out the corner of his eye. Tim must have found out. Between his visit to Jason and Dick's break out he must have found out about Dick. Jason could only be thankful that the GCPD weren't taking it seriously. Gotham was mad, but even the cops thought there was a line that couldn't be crossed. Their line just happened to be demons. He almost collapsed from joy, would have too, had Gordon not fixed a beady eye on Jason.

"While Dick is out of suspicion, we will need to question you again Jason. I'm just here as a friend, one who will tell you to come down to the station on your own and answer our questions or be pulled in as an accomplice."

Accomplice. Wonderful. "What time?"

Jason was forced in to the station at noon the next day. He had to leave Dick and Damian behind this time, Dick promising nothing bad would be happening when he got back. He only slightly believed Dick. 

Naturally, since this was just a Q&A with the cops Jason didn't get a lawyer. He wasn't under arrest and therefore why would he need one. He would have felt disheartened by this had he not remembered the state appointed lawyer he got last time. Jason had a feeling Thomas wasn't going to come to his rescue again, and if he was going to be stuck with a guy like the last one, Jason needed to make sure he had no reason to be arrested.

Harder said than done. 

They had indeed seen the CCTV. However, they had also reviewed the last months CCTV as well. They saw that while Jason had been at the Drake residence the day of the murders, he had been helping Dick when he came out again. If the Drakes were still here, Gordon said, they would have been looking into a kidnapping charge against them. It was said merely to get Jason on their side, neither parties actually thought even if there was a charge against them that anything would have come of it. 

What really interested the cops after that had been dealt with wasn't Jason's appearance at the murder scene, it was his relationship with Tim. They brought up his case from the rape charges. Gordon pointed out the holes in Jason's story, the evidence the media had gotten a hold of with Dick and Jason definitely not in a platonic embrace. While they did have Batman's toxicology report, Gordon didn't believe for one second that without it Jason wouldn't have been fucking Dick anyway. 

He went with it just to save face. It even helped him in the long run when Gordon turned the tables and asked, again, if Jason had a relationship with Tim. He put it in a way where the Drakes could have misunderstood it, that it was more romantic than forced and Tim's parents just came to the wrong conclusions. With Dick as Jason's shield, he could play the devoted partner, promising that the reason he didn't want to tell before about his involvement with Dick was because he knew Jack would have used it to his advantage, that they would too. They believed him more this time when he promised Dick was the only one he was with. He even heard a few of the cops in the hallway when he got a break mention how devoted they would be if a guy like Dick showed interest in them. 

When Gordon came back in, they focused on the dates and reasons for why Tim visited Jason. He didn't hide anything, figuring Tim had probably already told them about it. They noted down specifically the last time the two had met, when Tim came over for advice on the supposed 'ghost' in his house.

"And you said you believed him?" Gordon pressed.

Jason shrugged, "I'm a priest, we get calls about exorcisms. Demons are just another part of the job."

"But you told him you thought it was a ghost?" Gordon challenged.

Jason shook his head, "Tim said it was a ghost. I thought it might be Dick. I told Tim not to do anything. Apparently his parents had been communicating with whatever was in his house. I didn't want him to be in any danger."

"So you broke in yourself and thought you would have a look around?"

Breaking and entering would be on his list of crimes if he didn't think around this fast. "Well, I informed Tim I would call in his complaints with my superiors. I intended to do so, but, Dick had been missing for more than a month at that point. I was worried. We intended to just watch the house, see if we could spot anything unusual or if I could see any sign of Dick. I was planning on waiting for a time where Tim would be home and his parents were not, but Damian beat the bullet on that and, well, I couldn't just let him roam free in the Drake house."

Gordon narrowed his eyes at Jason, both of them knowing that was a lie. Strangely, however, Gordon ignored the problems in Jason's story. The Drakes had kidnapped Dick after all, and, if it wasn't for Jason they could have another body on their hands. 

They moved back to the visit from Tim, asking again if Jason had influenced Tim in any way. They were trying to find a reason behind Tim's breakdown. Maybe a pact Jason and Tim made. 

By the four hour mark, Gordon rubbed his eyes, shaking his hand out from writing cramp and said, "Do you have anything to say on Tim's relationship with his parents? Something he may have divulged?"

Jason thought about it for a while. "He mentioned they fought a lot. Mainly when Jack came home. When Tim came down to ask, Janet would always send him back up. I think, I think she was scared Jack would go for Tim."

Gordon nodded, not looking surprised in the least. "Do you have any reason to believe that Tim was abused by either his mother or father?"

Again, Jason thought about it. "Physically, no. I don't think they touched him. But, mentally. I know they left him alone a lot. He doesn't have many friends, whether because he's afraid they'll turn on him I don't know. But, I know arguing when you're a kid is horrible. The way Tim made it sound, I don't think it was a one time thing every now and then. I also know that his mom... when Jack was being held, she threatened Tim. I think Jack may have too."

Gordon nodded a second time, noting all of this down.

Jason wanted to leave it at that, but, something about yesterday's image of the kid stuck with him. "Those bruises on Tim's neck, they're from his mom, right?"

"What makes you say that?" Gordon asked, interest sliding back into his tone.

"Well, the angle, also the bruising. I grew up in Park Row, it wasn't uncommon to see people with bruises like that. They looked more slender than Jack's would be." Since Jason had seen on his own neck how thick those bruises came out. 

"We have reason to believe they were done before the murder," Gordon said, looking suitably impressed with Jason's little analysis. 

"Makes sense." There was no way Janet could have done that while being stabbed. It looked to be too firm, not something done out of desperation. 

He was there another hour before he was allowed to leave. 

Tim was in the holding cells when Jason walked out, he was sitting with his back to the wall, three men around him, one picking at his shirt. Tim's hands were still stained with blood. He wondered what the kid was thinking. Whether he was sorry for his actions. Or whether he was too out of it to even dwell on his actions right now. Jason knew how tired being here made people. 

When Jason got home, he finally breathed freely again. It was a miracle, a real miracle that he was able to be stood here. Even if, when he got inside, Damian was flooding his bathroom again.

Tim was on his mind the rest of the night. Jason couldn't help wondering what had happened, why Tim would kill his parents. Why now even. There had to be some kind of trigger. He wouldn't just snap without warning. Jason wanted to think it didn't involve him and Dick, but, with the events that had involved them up to now he knew that was just wishful thinking. Just like it was wishful thinking that everything would be alright now they could finally wave goodbye to the Drakes.

It was a week before everything went downhill. The week itself wasn't anything to really brag at. Damian was his usual destructive self, while Dick, well, it didn't seem like Dick was getting any better. He still couldn't wisp away, he couldn't even keep up his disguise. Jason woke up on Tuesday morning to Dick and Damian having it out in the living room, Dick's wings fluttering about in distress. Damian had put two and two together and was screaming the apartment down. 

It took hours before he was willing to listen. Even more before he was curled up on Dick's lap, angry, but willing to forgive.

Wednesday saw Damian keeping his distance but at least not screaming. Jason managed to corner Dick about his wings because of that. His eyes were hard to look into as well, the pure blue fire turning Jason almost blind whenever he glanced at him. 

"I'm just..." Dick sighed, Jason knowing hungry was going to follow.

He should have thought about that sooner. Starved and healing there was probably only one thing that could make Dick better. Whether it was an imperative need or a psychological one was to be questioned. 

Thursday, Jason had Bruce on his trail. He was fetching some chocolate for Damian when he felt ice shift through his veins. The chocolate was grabbed before he could get it, a strong hand putting it in his basket. Jason didn't know what to do so, he didn't do anything. He continued his shopping with Bruce at his back. A surreal experience if he'd ever had one. Especially since he got comments, honest to God criticism about what he was putting into his basket.

"Aren't these meant to be unhealthy?" Bruce rumbled, looking over Jason's shoulder to a pizza that was being shoved into the basket.

"I swear-" he finally turned, coming face to face with the most human Bruce he'd ever witnessed. 

He was clothed for one thing, looking like he'd just come out of a business meeting. The glow was gone from his eyes, leaving a blue that Damian had inherited. Even his hair looked normal, the bedhead he usually sported gone in favour of a sleek part. 

"Yes? Can I help you?" Jason asked.

Bruce grunted, narrowing his eyes at the tone. "Damian has informed me that Dick has not fed. Your job is to do so priest."

Of course, because what else would Jason be good for. "I've been rather busy."

"Then don't be," like it was that simple.

Jason wanted to point out that half the reason Jason was so busy was because he was looking after Damian. But, if Jason said that Damian might be taken away again, so he kept his mouth shut and moved onto the next isle. "Alfred left something for you," He remembered. "An envelope. I think I put it-"

"In the drawer by your bed. Yes, I got it weeks ago." 

Know it all. 

Despite informing Jason he wasn't doing his job right Bruce didn't leave. He hung around Jason until he'd paid for his shopping before grabbing him and melting them away. Jason tried screaming, hoped Dick had heard him as Bruce's smog kidnapped him. Oh God, he should have ran the moment Bruce had shown up. He was probably taking Jason to some kind of dungeon. Or Hell. Or his apartment.

Damian was already jumping like an excited puppy as Jason stumbled out of Bruce's hold, the mini demon quickly filled the void. When Jason managed to get his bearings Damian had successfully nuzzled his way into his father's arms. Bruce, acting on automatic, had his arms loosely around Damian's small back as his eyes focused on Dick, wings out and eyes still glowing.

Jason backed away from the scene without being told. He didn't try listening in, just waited and when Damian came trotting in and told him Bruce was gone, Jason gave the kid a real hug. 

Friday, saw Dick preening his wings and Damian trying his hand at baking. Jason didn't know which fire to put out since Dick kept setting fire to his own feathers and Damian the mess he called cupcake batter in the microwave. Eventually, when Jason got Damian to sit still enough to listen, they ended the evening with Jason munching a quite good cupcake while picking the errant feathers out of Dick's bones. 

Saturday and Sunday were okay after that. Nothing too out of the ordinary to report except some kid almost tearing his hair out as he caught his zip in Jason's white bangs. 

Monday on the other hand, Jason woke up sore. It was a familiar soreness, prickling at the back of his mind as he set himself on his elbows. It was only when he saw Dick, his wings gone and blue eyes back that Jason realised why.

"Dick?" His voice was hoarse, the words scraping at the side of his throat as they came up. "What did you- why would you?"

Dick, for his part, hadn't seemed to think anything was wrong until Jason had spoke. "But, you asked me to."

"I wouldn't." He knew that for a fact. Even drugged he hadn't asked, he'd never wanted to ask again. Dick reached for him, his hand just making contact before Jason couldn't take it, he flinched back, bringing the quilt with him. "What did you do to me?" 

"I- you- you asked," Dick begged, his hand still inches away. "I wouldn't have- you said you wanted me to be better."

Jason shook his head. "I wouldn't."

"You wouldn't want me to be better?" 

"I wouldn't ask you to do that to me!" An overreaction, he knew, the shouting wasn't needed, especially with Damian inches away, but Jason wasn't really thinking beyond long repressed instincts right now, and they were screaming at him to lash out. "What did you do? You drug me too? You just did it while I was asleep? I thought you understood. I thought you wouldn't do this to me!"

Dick's hand dropped, something seeming to click in his head as he muttered, "Bruce."

"Bruce? What the hell has he got to do with this?" He wasn't thinking, he needed to get out, to just breathe for a moment. There was an explanation. There had to be. He swung his legs over, his lower half aching enough for Jason to tear up. Standing had him falling back to the bed, the hand Dick gave him to keep him up shook off with a swift push backwards. "You don't touch me."

"Jason I wouldn't," Dick cried. "I swear. I thought it was you. I thought."

"No," Jason rounded on him, the quilt higher than it had ever been. "No you didn't think Dick. If you'd thought, for even a moment, I wouldn't be sitting here wondering how long I've been out." He didn't even want to know what time it was. He tried standing again, his legs aching from being stuck in one place for too long last night. It didn't work, which meant, "Leave."

"Jason-"

"Out. Now. I can't deal with this right now."

Dick didn't leave, he came around until he was in Jason's eye line and started begging again. "You're not sending me away, are you? Jason please, you know I wouldn't."

"You know, a lot of people have said that to me over the years," Tim, his mom, his dad, all of them had been lying, Jason didn't want to hear the same line come out of Dick's mouth, not until he could think. "Get out."

"I mean it! I won't touch you again. You won't even have to feed me. Just, please don't send me away. You know I can't do this without you."

He was backed into a corner, hurt and not getting any room to get himself together. He would apologise for his words later, but right now his mouth was disengaging from his brain. "Wow! Of course you're only concerned for yourself. It's not like you're the one who's been taken advantage of again. It's not like you're the one who's been pressured again and again to do something that makes you sick to your stomach just because a demon will molest you if you don't!"

"I never molested you!" Dick barked, the wrong thing to say in this situation since Jason only had to twist his legs to know that wasn't true anymore. Dick knew that now as well as his righteousness faded. "I'm sorry."

"Are you?" 

Dick nodded. "I'm so sorry Jason. I swear."

He wanted to tell Dick that it would be alright, but, "I don't think I can believe you right now."

The words that broke the last string of Dick's temper. In a huff, Dick rose to his full height. Jason knew, under normal circumstances he would see this for another hissy fit, that Dick was just as frustrated with this situation as Jason. They had both been through too much. But, raw as he was, Jason couldn't help rising to the threat Dick posed. Before he knew it they were arguing full out, just screaming at each other until Dick hissed, "You're lucky I let you have any say in it! I don't need you to say yes Jason. I don't even need you to be able to move. I've not been half the monster I could have been to you."

Jason scoffed, "You've not exactly been an angel either. If you had half the attitude you do down here as you did up there, it's no wonder they cast you out."

The words seemed to echo in the room. They didn't, obviously. Jason's room didn't echo. But he could hear them go around and around in his head. 

"I didn't-" He started, but Dick was already gone.

Damian had his head against the wall when Jason ventured out. He didn't even pretend he hadn't been listening, crossing his arms over his chest and giving Jason his best Bruce impression. "I hope you know I blame you if Dick does not return."

"I blame me too," Jason said, knowing, deep down, he wouldn't be seeing Dick for a while.


	16. Chapter 16

It took three days for Jason to get himself back together. It would have been sooner, but the time he should have used to try and sort his head out he was busy with Damian. It wasn't that he minded the kid, actually, Jason kind of loved the kid. But when he was with Damian Jason wasn't thinking about what he should, like why, or how to move past what Dick, what Bruce, did to him. So, when he did get time to himself, his brain seemed to overload on itself.

It wasn't good, not to mention exhausting. Yet, eventually, Jason got there.

He managed to think past Dick's actions. It had happened, Jason could see how and he could see why. He could see, in Dick's sensitive state, he wouldn't think much of Jason just offering to help. He'd given in before, Dick was probably of the mind that now his vow was basically in ruins, he would do it again. He probably was too busy rejoicing in this chance to heal fully to even consider whether it was really Jason speaking to him. Bruce must have been convincing. He must have been watching Jason for longer than he thought it he was able to fool Dick. Or, Dick really was that weak that he couldn't see when he was being duped.

Either way, Jason hadn't actually been there for the sex, and it was kind of his job to find some kind of way around people's bad actions so, yeah, he could forgive Dick. He could start anyway.

A week after that, Jason was surprised Dick wasn't back in their apartment. Yes, they had fought. Yes, they had both said things that hurt each other, but Dick knew that Jason wanted to help him. He knew that Jason wasn't casting him out. They were both still raw from everything that had happened. He'd just said he needed some space, which, to Dick meant a day and then hanging around until Jason forgave him. It was just how things went.

Which was why, when that week mark came up and Dick still wasn't back, Jason was worried. The last time this had happened, Dick had been kidnapped. The prospect of this happening again was enough to push Jason to go out looking again.

He called Dick's name for hours, Damian roaming the streets with him trying to kidnap cats. Jason would have been lying if he wasn't hoping for Dick to be at the apartment when he got back. He was always hoping for that, yet, again, just like when he was missing, Dick didn't just appear and curl around Jason for forgiveness.

He went out searching the next night. The night after that too, until Jason came home to quite an unusual sight.

He couldn't place what was wrong at first. Nothing was on fire, or flooded. His apartment was clean even. It was only when he handed Damian his dinner for the night, the two of them on the couch this time, that he realised they had company.

"Colin know you took one?" Jason asked, the big fluffy cat winding its way around Jason's ankles.

Damian had the decency to swallow before speaking, another win for Jason. "She is not from the orphanage. Father gave me her as a birthday gift."

Bruce. "He was here?"

Damian nodded, "Briefly. He did not wish to linger."

Jason had to take some deep breaths before he could ask about the cat. He'd made a promise to himself the minute he stepped out of his room the morning after Dick left. Damian didn't know, or probably didn't understand what had happened between Jason and Dick, and quite frankly, he wanted it to stay that way. For one, it wasn't the kids business. For another, it was bad enough the kid had to listen to them fight, he didn't need to know what they were fighting about. Nor did he need to know it was his own father that was the cause behind it all.

Damian was a lot of things, and loyal to Bruce was one the first things Jason had learned.

So he spent the rest of the night learning about Selina, their newest addition. It turned out Bruce had already named the cat when he dropped it off, telling Damian she was a gift Bruce couldn't be bothered to take care of. Jason wondered what poor girl out there was stupid enough to gift a guy like Bruce anything after what he'd probably done to her.

When he went to bed that night however, Jason couldn't stop the pure hopelessness and anger at that demon invading his home again like he hadn't violated Jason barely ten days ago. It riled him up so bad that, the next day, he had Damian in his clothes and in a taxi before nine.

They arrived at Arkham an hour later, Jason breezing past security as he promised another mass with the patients who wanted it. The nurses were happy to take Damian to the recreation room, Jason not worried in the slightest about leaving the kid with a bunch of psychotic criminals.

At eleven, Jason was led into a room quite similar to one he was in last time. The Joker, no, Mrs Wayne, was led in shortly after, the nurses leaving at Jason's request.

There was no glass between them this time, pre Jason's request. Mrs Wayne seemed to find this extra hilarious as the pitch of her laughs picked up the longer she tested the manacles holding her to the table.

"You know who I want to see Mrs Wayne," Since there was no use dithering about with the Joker.

"It doesn't work like that," Martha said, her voice gravelly, hoarse. Jason wondered if she ever stopped laughing. If she could.

"Of course it doesn't." Jason hadn't expected her to play nice a second time. Shock must have had her cooperating the first, the knowledge that she wasn't insane. But a second time, she had wits enough to know that she could get something from Jason. Well, she could have if Jason had actually been intending for her to call him.

A high profile person like Martha Wayne needed special treatment. The nurses and doctors in Arkham couldn't just take her into a room and hope, if something went wrong, they would have the time to run to where they kept their sedatives and other drugs. So, in order to not cause any more deaths, or another breakout, there were several handy needles on the table behind Martha.

Jason didn't even read the labels on them, he didn't need to, just grabbed one and held it to the Joker's neck. "Bruce!" Jason called, Martha stilling as they both knew that Jason could do more than knock her out with one of these needles. Usually, Jason wouldn't think himself capable of carrying through with a threat like this. But, Jason was at the end of his tether. He was willing to do anything right now. "Don't pretend you can't hear me. We both know what she means to you."

It took three more of these threats before the shadows on the other side of the table morphed into Bruce's form. He looked like he was conducting a business meeting. Between the suit he was still wearing and the fact he was sitting, looking like he was about to pull out a spreadsheet instead of witnessing a hostage situation proved just how bothered the demon was with this situation.

"Bruce," Martha sighed, the laughing finally stopping.

"Mother," Bruce greeted, his eyes trained on Jason.

"Oh, you look just like Thomas," the manacles shifted, Martha reaching out, her voice taking a dreamlike quality. "My little boy."

Bruce smiled at least, reaching over himself to take one of his mother's hands. From afar, it looked like a sweet gesture. To Jason, he could still see Bruce pinning him in place with his eyes, the sheer coldness that was there.

He took the needle a bit away from Martha's neck, enough to not breach her skin while keeping close enough to stab if Bruce got any ideas. Jason was under no illusion Bruce was just waiting for an opportunity to rip him apart.

"Is Selina okay, or have you butchered her like you did Damian's dog?" Bruce started.

"The cat's fine." Damian was in love with her. He'd wanted to bring her to Arkham, had her in his sweater too before Jason persuaded him Selina wouldn't like the long car ride. Apparently upsetting the cat was another way Jason could get the kid to behave. "And I didn't butcher Titus. Dick did, but I bet you knew that. You have been watching me."

"I've been watching my son. Something, which I believe, is completely okay for a father to do."

"Like you care," Jason scoffed.

Bruce started, an affronted scowl overcoming his features. "Of course I care. He's my son."

"Please." Jason carried on before Bruce could distract him from the real reason Jason had called him. "I'm going to say this once, and that's it. I want you to stay away from me. That thing, with Dick, that's the last time I want to even think of you touching me. If you ever come near me again, I swear, I will do everything in my power to turn Damian against you. I'll bring him to Thomas, I'll tell him what you are, and I'll find a way to trap you back in hell where you can't hurt anyone again."

They both knew Jason wasn't bluffing. Not only had he managed to steal a book from the Drakes that turned out to be pretty helpful about demons. But, living with Dick had given him an insight into the truths and myths about demons. He knew what could keep Bruce away, what could hurt him, what could hurt Damian.

There was nothing but pure hatred in Bruce's eyes as he stared Jason down. They just appraised each other for a few minutes before- well- Bruce started laughing.

Jason felt himself deflating. There was nothing worse after delivering a threat than to hear someone laugh. Usually, in Jason's experience, it meant they knew something Jason didn't know. Often that thing was something that would end up biting him in the ass later. He felt like he was ten years old again staring his old man down as Bruce continued to laugh at him.

He tapered off after a while, Bruce sitting back in his chair. "Wow," he said, "I take it this threat includes Richard too."

Jason bristled at Dick's angel name being used. He got himself back together pretty quickly, knowing that any weakness was a chance for Bruce to snap his neck. "Yeah," Jason decided. "It does. You're done messing with us."

Bruce shrugged lazily, "Fine," he sighed. "But, I am curious. You've been so accepting of my presence before. What changed?"

"You know what."

Bruce frowned, the emotion looking mocking on that face. "I really don't. You said I touched you? I don't recall laying a hand on you. Well, not since giving you a ride home."

He was baiting him, Jason knew that, he recognised the signs, but if he didn't admit to what happened, Bruce wasn't going to give him anything. It was the way things like this went. "You fucking possessed me. You-" he couldn't make himself finish, the words just wouldn't come out. Then again, they didn't have to.

Bruce's frown deepened, for the first time since he came here he looked sincere as he shook his head, "I haven't possessed anyone."

"Bullshit!" Dick had said Bruce's name.

"Priest," Bruce said, his voice calling for calm, "I have no reason to lie to you."

"You're a demon, you lie."

Bruce pursed his lips, assessing Jason like he had been since the moment he came in. "I suppose you believe I don't feel as well."

"Obviously."

Bruce let out a breath, "I think this has went on long enough." He sat up, resuming his businessman posture. "Listen Jason, I'm going to tell you the truth, the real truth. And to show that I'm not lying I'm not doing this because I think you're a good kid, or I even like you. If I had the chance, I'd rip your throat out. I'm merely telling you this because I'm grateful for what you've done for Damian."

"Grateful," Jason muttered, not believing he'd heard that word come out of Bruce's mouth.

There was a twitch on Bruce's brow, a scowl that was waiting to form, repressed purely because Bruce was trying to appear approachable. "I can be grateful. I've told you, I love my son."

"If that were true you wouldn't be fostering him off with other people."

The scowl did come this time, Bruce taking a deep breath before saying, "If you're referring to the arrangement with Richard that was his idea. As for leaving him with you, where I go, it's not safe for Damian. You can't stand there and tell me that you feel better knowing he's not with me? Leaving him with you... I'm trying to give Damian the start he deserves in this life. He's more than just a demon."

"And I'm supposed to believe this?" He asked, even as a small part of him did agree that he would much prefer having Damian with him than off with Bruce.

"I love my son," Bruce repeated, tightening his hold on Martha's hand, "Just like I love my mother. I wouldn't visit her if I didn't."

There was an argument there of Bruce just remembering what love felt like. But, when Jason looked at Bruce eyeing his mother, he couldn't help but feel his resolve waver. It didn't look forced that affection on his face.

Bruce turned back to Jason. "Once our visit is over, I think it would be best if you took Damian and left. Richard is missing, however, just because I can't find him does not mean he's gone. He has means even I don't possess, and I fear when you meet him again he won't be as generous to you as he has been."

"What are you talking about?" Jason hissed, his hand tightening on the needle automatically.

Bruce's eyes went to it with a keenness only someone who felt genuine worry would. If Bruce was faking now, he was doing a damn good job. "Richard has always had a fondness for priests. I think it might stem from his fall but... he has not confirmed it with me." Like it was completely natural for demons to talk about their tastes in people like they were candy. "He likes playing the redeeming angel. He pretends he wants help, controls himself and gives in to give it a realistic touch. Then, when he's done waiting, he'll take from them."

"That's stupid," Jason huffed. "Dick's been with me for a year."

Bruce shrugged, "It's always sweeter the longer they take to break."

Jason didn't know what to think. What Bruce was saying was, well... But Dick, there was no way he could have planned for all of this. No way. Dick had struggled and overcome and he'd-

"Did he tell you he'd heard from them? The others? It's a new thing with him. He tried it on the last one, had the guy giving in that very night."

He felt sick. The needle in his hand was shaking now, more than enough for Jason to take it further away from Martha's neck. He tried calming. This was what Bruce wanted after all. He wanted Jason to waver, to doubt Dick. For all Jason knew Bruce had gathered this information from spying on them.

Bruce didn't seem to be observing him any more, too busy informing Jason of the long con Dick had been planning since the first day they'd met. The way he made it sound did sound believable however. Dick borrowing Damian to give him a more sympathetic character. Confessing to sins he'd actually done, but wasn't truly nor ever would be sorry for them. The idea to start doing his own community work. This wasn't Dick's first rodeo, Bruce said, and he doubted it would be his last.

"And I bet he told you all about me too. How I can't feel, how he turned me because he wanted to help me. You know that was just another lie right? Just ask my mother. She'll tell you what really happened."

"Scratches on the wall," Martha mumbled. "My poor boy all torn up."

"He didn't save me priest. He cursed me. It wasn't a mercy. He was the reason we were in that alley." Bruce visibly forced himself to relax, the reaction, again, seemingly genuine. "You can't go to any monastery's. Richard will know if you keep close to the church. The wise thing for you to do would be to find a magic user and stick with them. They know how to keep people like Dick away and yourself safe."

With that little tidbit, Bruce kissed his mother's hand and disappeared.

Jason dropped the needle, standing at the back of Martha's chair long enough for the doctors to start making noise behind the locked door. Jason just made it back around the other side when they let themselves in, telling Jason Damian was upsetting the patients trying to relax.

He didn't dawdle. He left with Damian and spent the day wandering his apartment, trying to wrap his head around what Bruce had said.

He had to be lying. He had to be. Of course he was lying, this was Bruce. Jason wasn't honestly going to take his word, a word of a demon he'd not spent the past year with, over Dick's.

He wanted to think that would make him feel better, that he could just push that argument to the back of his mind. No.

At one point, Jason had Damian packing his stuff, considering where he could go, what money he could get. But, he ended up just shipping Damian off to the orphanage to play with Colin while he unpacked the half full suitcase. Bruce was probably waiting for Jason to leave. If he wasn't in the church, he couldn't contact his superiors. He couldn't get his hands on Holy Water. If he stayed he was, well, not safe, but safer than he would be on the road.

So Jason stayed, and the weeks passed with still no Dick in sight.

Damian had started worrying when it hit the two month mark.

He came in from the store, ingredients under one arm and a new toy for the kids under the other. Damian hung around him from the moment he made himself known, Selina on his tail meowing for attention. The two of them followed Jason into the kitchen, Damian unloading quite helpfully in his ruse to pretend he wasn't wanting something.

Damian managed to keep quiet until food was in front of him. Two spoonfuls in, the kid asked, "Did you see Dick while you were out?"

"No," Jason said, wishing he could say different.

"It has been a while." Damian shoved another spoonful in his mouth, like the food was giving him courage. "You do not think anything has happened to him, do you?"

Lying wouldn't do any good. Not with Damian. "I don't know." They lapsed into an awkward silence, Damian mulling on whatever went on in that head of his. "You know," Jason started, opening his mouth three more times before deciding, "If you see Dick and he doesn't want to talk to me, it's okay to go with him."

Damian tutted, "I know priest. You think I want to be in your presence longer than I have to?"

Jason would have said yes if that didn't mean Damian would throw a hissy fit and lock himself in his room for hours on end. So he kept silent and picked at his own food and the next night, Jason took Damian to look for Dick again.

He sent Damian off to Colin's when he was done. The kid was too disheartened to sit at home with Jason. It was cold tonight, winter starting to set its teeth into Gotham. The air outside was biting, yet the church seemed colder still, the old stones seeping the heat from the room. He could see his own breath as he started through the pews, telling himself he'd pick up those errant toys he'd neglected to put away tomorrow.

He went through his door, doubling back when he got to the mirror on his wall. He wondered, briefly, if there was more white in it these days. He wouldn't put it past his body to start going grey. With all the stress this year had thrown at him he'd have every right too.

"Eh," he huffed, continuing on towards his rooms and to his bible.

He was thinking about doing a piece on forgiveness this Sunday. People in Gotham really needed to listen to that one again. Like, seriously. He didn't know how many times he had passed kids in the pews fighting over toys, holding grudges like they were ancient warlords rather than children, and that was the children. The adults were even worse. He'd passed a butchers the other day that refused to serve a man purely because his second cousin had broke the butcher's heart. Forgiveness cost nothing, and Jason, quite frankly, got sick of living in a world that didn't understand that.

There were more than a few stories he could use, but Jason kind of wanted to aim his teachings to the younger generation. They were the impressionable ones. They would be the ones who would go away from his sermon thinking, soaking in the words, and, hopefully, applying it.

He flipped to the New Testament, grabbing his notebook, or would have if he didn't spot the bruises on his wrists. Those hadn't been there before.

His hand shook as he lifted it closer. He recognised those marks, those fingers, and cold fear went through him. Dick wouldn't- but if Bruce had been right-

"Demon!" He clung to his rosary. He knew it would do no good, but there was solace in the beads. God was with him, He would give Jason the strength to send the demon away. "And there was me thinking you'd got bored." He didn't know what he was hoping for now. Dick to tell him that he would never get bored of Jason and the two of them retiring for a long overdue binge on his laptop. Or Bruce being right, and Jason really knowing where he stood with Dick.

The room in front of him remained silent, not a whisper disturbed. Jason didn't let his guard down. This had happened before, the demon liking to mess with him. Usually, it was with Damian, Dick playing in the shadows and creeping up on Jason when he thought it would be fun. Usually, in those encounters Jason was cooking, and something would end up being on fire by the end of it. He kind of hoped now Dick wasn't playing a game. But, since luck wasn't on his side, if someone was there, they seemed to ignore him. He looked back at the fingers on his wrist, remembering the scars he still had from Dick. The ones he'd made months ago. Jason wondered if the bruises could be from Bruce, him and Dick both looked to have the same hand shape, it wouldn't be too much of a stretch. If it was Bruce, he wouldn't come out right away, he would leave Jason to stew, probably watching from the shadows as Jason wondered again and again whether Bruce had been right all along about Dick. Then, when Jason had finally let his guard down, he'd come for him. It seemed like Bruce's M.O.

"Alright, have it your way." He went back to his seat, he could play this game. He had managed to drive the Bruce away once, kind of, well, Bruce hadn't bothered him, and it was only for a few months, he was sure, with some time, he could do it again.

He sighed, fingering the bruises as he twitched in his seat. He didn't feel quite right. Even the bruises, they didn't hurt like the ones Dick had made before. Days old something in his head whispered. Dick usually couldn't control the pain. He thought again about Titus, wondering if Dick could control pain he would use it to make sure the dog felt none.

He wondered if people possessed could feel pain. Whether, since he was awake this time, this was what it was like having his body being taken over. That feeling of invasion was still present, almost taking over, twisting his thoughts. Dick liked making him feel pain, he liked making sure Jason felt every invisible finger carving into his flesh.

No. He didn't.

Something broke, Jason startling out of his musings about Tim and what he must have felt. He looked around for anything out of place, yet, nothing seemed wrong.

Just to make certain, Jason went down and got some holy water to reach for if someone was there.

Damian came back the next morning looking like he'd swallowed something foul. When Jason asked what was wrong, the kid couldn't really answer him. "I did not feel myself," Damian muttered, retiring to his room for a few hours.

They went looking for Dick again that evening, Jason still holding onto his holy water as they broadened their horizons to other churches in the upper districts. Jason didn't want to think it, but if Dick was what Bruce said, then there was a good chance he was scoping out the other priests to prey on next.

He was both relieved and disheartened when they got home, again, with no Dick.

The next day was a bit of a weird one for Jason. Weird because he was woken by Damian sitting on him, staring. "What?" Jason asked.

"There is someone at the door," Damian informed him, hopping off now Jason was awake.

From experience, no one good came to his door, so Jason was more than wary answering it. He scoped out his window first, wondering if they would come around if he took too long to answer.

They didn't.

Eventually, Jason grew tired of the insistent, and quite fast, knocks, and opened the door to some blonde man who talked too fast and seemed to take the phrase make yourself at home to heart. Jason had barely made it back up his stairs before the guy had his shoes off, a mug of coffee in one hand and chips in the other.

Jason bit down his complaints, plastering on his nice priest face. "What exactly can I help you with Mr..."

"Allen, Barry Allen." He sighed like the weight of the world had been lifted off his shoulders. "Man, when I got that message from Wally, I thought he was going nuts. But no, here you are Jason, and look at you." He grinned, seeming much more familiar with Jason than Jason was with him.

He took one thing at a time. "Message?"

Barry nodded, "Wally said something about you having a book on the supernatural. I need it. It's kind of my souvenir from this world."

"Huh?" He couldn't possibly be talking about the one Jason had nabbed from the Drakes.

Barry shrugged, "Well, he didn't say an exact book but he said you might have one. Or, know where to get one. Point is, if you do, I need it."

"Well, so do I," Jason argued pointlessly, basically giving away he had what the guy wanted.

Barry tilted his head in a 'meh' gesture. "Trust me kid, I'll do more good with it than you."

The way he said it rubbed Jason the wrong way, "What do you mean by that?"

The guy stuttered for a moment, before saying," Just trust me. It's too hard to explain right now, but, it'll be better if I take it."

He didn't seem like a bad guy, or even someone possessed. But, then, who had Jason met that had been possessed? Tim, maybe, but even if he was he was out of whatever spell he had been under when Jason got there. He feared, if he did see someone under a demon's spell he actually wouldn't know what to look for.

He was cautious anyway, telling the guy that it wasn't like the book was useful as he laced the spine with holy water. Barry didn't flinch when he held it, his hands were clear as he tossed the book between his hands. Sliding it in his jacket, Barry looked Jason back over. "You know, I think your dad would be happy with how you turned out."

"Are you messing with me?" His dad was the least religious guy Jason had ever met.

"No," He didn't even look sorry as he clapped Jason on the shoulder like they were best pals and said goodbye.

Quite frankly Jason didn't think things could get any weirder than that.

He was wrong.

Around midday, he got a call from the police station asking him if he would come in. Tim had put in a special request before his trial to see Jason one last time, to apologise, Gordon said. Jason thought that bit had been tacked on just to get him down there. No doubt Gordon was fishing for more evidence to convict Jason along with Tim.

Jason debated not going down at all. It wouldn't do any good for either parties, but he was curious what the kid wanted with him, so he made an appointment with Gordon for five days away and spent the rest of the afternoon picking out a new collar for Selina with Damian.

Damian kept Jason distracted as the days to Tim's visitation passed. He had the kid helping with the the orphanage visitation, Colin and him sneaking away to see Damian's new cat and leaving Jason with the others. He couldn't complain, these kids hanging off his arms were honestly the best thing in his life right now.

He hated seeing them leave, so much so that, with Barry's strange words ringing in his head, he let them take the toys they wanted back with them to the orphanage.

"I don't think I'm going to be around much longer," Jason said when the nuns protested. "I have this weird feeling. Like, something's going to happen." It was there, at the back of his mind. Dreams that felt like his but not, the world around him blurring at times until he was sure he was seeing people and places he'd never heard of before. There was also the fact that war had actually been declared between the Amazons and Atlanteans not four days ago. The way the world was going, no one would be around much longer never mind just him.

"You're not in trouble again, are you?" the sister asked, thankfully without the judgement so many others had when asking him that same question.

"No," Jason scoffed, "But when has that ever stopped the cops from finding something on me?"

The sister tutted, "Even so, you let them take these back you won't be seeing them again. I'm not going to help out when twenty kids come crying about lack of toys next Tuesday."

"Fine with me." If Jason hadn't been arrested, maybe he would take Bruce up on that idea of leaving. Not the church, but maybe Gotham. There was a nice place in Central City he was sure he could persuade his superiors to give him. Especially because he knew no one went there. It was the perfect place to exile a troublemaker like Jason.

The kids gave him a hug each as they left, all of them clutching a bear, train or whatever they wanted the whole way back to the orphanage. Well, all of them except one. Thankfully, Jason had already made alternate arrangements for that one.

"Nine," Jason warned. "You're here until nine and then the sisters want you back Mister."

Colin pouted but agreed to the terms, his own gift from Jason all those weeks ago now on Damian's head. They were quite well behaved for two little troublemakers, Jason sensing Damian putting on a good act in the hopes Colin could stay longer. Regardless, Jason appreciated the effort.

Enough that, the next day Jason let Damian go over to the orphanage and spend the day there.

He had ulterior motives, Jason wanting to use this time alone to start making plans for their move. He also wanted to have another look around for Dick. As much as he wanted to leave, he didn't want Dick to come back and think Jason had abandoned him. Even if he had been playing Jason, there was always that chance he hadn't, and, it was enough to have him searching the streets until his voice was hoarse and feet ached.

He fell back onto his bed with a grunt, toeing his shoes off and finding himself-

"Demon!" His skin felt wrong, not to mention cold, his clothes gone. He looked down, Dick staring back at him. "What have you done?" Not again, not again. "What trick is this?"

"Jason?"

He climbed off, hurrying around for a shirt. When he tugged it on, it fit like a glove, the boxers too. He didn't recognise them, but if they fit-

His head was hurting. He felt wrong. "Possession?" Jason guessed. "Really?" He was surprised, "You must have been quite distracted to let me out of your grip."

Dick didn't seem to hear the jibe, jumping up with an excited, "It is you," reaching for Jason immediately.

He stopped Dick with a hand to his chest, shoving the boxers at him. Dick actually put them on, eyes never leaving Jason as the man himself noticed just what had happened.

Wherever they were, they weren't in his apartment. There were scratches on the wall, the room far bigger than any Jason had seen in the Narrows. "What is this? Where have you brought me this time?" He wondered how far away they were from his apartment. Why even Dick needed the change in scenery.

Dick shrugged, "It doesn't matter, he waved off, latching onto Jason now he was clothed.

He let it happen, horrified beyond belief Bruce had been right, that Dick had done this, had done it before to him. The only reason he didn't fight Dick off, punch him even, although he wanted to, was because he knew violence would end in himself being hurt more than Dick.

He unravelled himself as gently as he could from Dick after a while, taking another look at his current kidnapping location. He looked to be in some kind of nursery. An expensive one at that. He focused back on the scratches on the wall, only mildly surprised when he saw "Bruce?" Some part of Jason's brain had him murmuring, "That wouldn't be your master would it?" Despite Jason knowing for a fact these two demons didn't answer to anyone let alone each other.

It was more of a partnership, one Dick reminded Jason of as he said, "He's not my master. We've been through this Jay."

"Right," that other part of his brain said, "You turned him," like the concept was just being discovered again. Jason shook the other side off, snark taking over as he started out of the room. "Still doesn't explain why you run when he calls you."

Dick trotted behind him muttering, "After a few days he won't be calling me at all." Perking up enough to catch up to Jason's stride, something weird about his face as he said, "Then it'll just be me and you forever."

He rolled his eyes, promising himself he was running away as soon as he finished his interview with Tim. Maybe he could even cancel it. Wasn't like Gordon really wanted him there.

They came out into a wide hallway, Jason couldn't help but be impressed with the ornate furnishings and wide rooms they passed. "So, this is Wayne Manor."

He'd heard stories about this place, about the Waynes too, more than just what he'd learnt from his time with demons. It was weird to think this was probably a happy place once. As it was, Jason was pretty sure he'd seen Martha roaming the streets the other day. Shame, he'd just given her mass too.

"You know," He said, playing it cool, he just had to play it cool until he could get out of here. "if we get caught, I'm handing you over to old man Wayne myself. I'm sure he'll be delighted to know who the creature was that terrorized the better half of his son's life."

Dick pouted, unlatching his body off Jason's arm to hold his hand instead. He swung it between them. "I think he'll thank me."

"Thank you?"

"Well, I did save his kids life. If it wasn't for me Bruce would be ten feet under right now. I mean, he is ten feet under, but at least he can come aboard every now and then." To anyone else, Jason was sure that would be a horrific thought, their kid being a demon. But, Jason remembered Martha, and how happy she had been to see Bruce. Maybe some people would be grateful to know their kids are safe, even if they were spending the rest of their lives terrorizing other people. Jason knew a few mobsters who thought down that path.

Jason hummed, not saying anything in favour for or against.

They made it to the banister before things got weird. One moment Jason could feel Dick, really feel him like he was there, and the next, the demon was gone without any dramatics. The presence in his head was gone too, the one telling him to run as fast as he could. Jason stood there for a moment, wondering what had just happened, actually considering whether he was dreaming as he looked down to see the shirt and boxers were still on his person.

He hoped this was a dream. That his brain had decided to play this stupid trick on him. If it was, then Dick hadn't just been under him minutes ago, and Jason, well, he wouldn't have found himself possessed for a second time.

He was running with the dream theory, the walls around him helping to convince his brain to take it seriously. After all, what reason did Dick have for being here, and what reason did Dick have for bringing Jason here. If he wanted to get a leg over, the easiest thing to do was take him in his apartment again. It wasn't like Damian was around.

Damian.

He heard a ticking not far from where he was standing, abandoning the stairs in favour of poking his head into some kind of study. The clock read early morning. Early enough for Damian to have come back by now but late enough for Jason to get back before the kid woke up. He breathed easier, making for the stairs again and resolutely ignoring the fact that he probably shouldn't have been able to tell the time in a dream. Or worry about Damian if he really was tucked up in bed at home.

He made it to the bottom of the stairs just as he heard footsteps pound on the floor above.

Right, Thomas. Jason considered hiding, maybe just running for the door and hope his head start was enough to loose the guy, before his brain argued that Batman probably would just track him down anyway, regardless of how fast Jason went. He ended up standing his ground, preparing a hundred different excuses and apologies when the man that came by his house the other day poked his head around the corner.

"You?" Barry something if Jason remembered rightly.

Whatever it was, the guy breathed a sigh of relief, yelling into the darkness, "It's just Jason. Jesus kid I almost had a heart attack." He skipped down the rest of the stairs, still grinning that inane smile at Jason like they were old friends or something. Unnerving. "What brings you to this neck of the woods then? Some breaking and entering? I think there's some goods in the living room down there," The guy whispered, grin still in place.

Jason ignored the insinuation that he was here to steal because, well, he was breaking into Wayne manor no matter how he looked at it. "I was just leaving."

Barry's grin dropped, for the first time since seeing Jason Barry looked him over, a dark look entering his eyes. "Oh. Interesting. The radius must be wider than I thought." He peered closely at Jason's eyes, "Are you feeling alright kid? Which Jason am I speaking to right now?"

"What?" He pushed the guy away when he got too close. "Look, I have to go, I have a ten year old to see to so..."

Barry let him go, not grabbing him like Jason thought he would. He let him get to the door too before he said, "Just watch out okay. These blips shouldn't last much longer."

He ran, his bare feet getting more stones stuck in them than they ever had as he transversed the dark streets of Gotham. He was pretty sure he had glass stuck under his little toe by the time he got home, his apartment still lit up like he remembered leaving it. He got in, navigating the rooms and stairs as he shook the dirt of Gotham from his soles. Damian was there when Jason got into his bedroom, the kid curled up on Jason's bed, the second pillow smushed between his little hands.

Not thinking much about it, Jason climbed under the covers himself, snuggling up as much as he dared with Damian there and wished this whole night away.

He woke to nothing really wrong in the room. His feet ached, but, they had when he went to bed last night. When he checked them, there was nothing piercing the skin or small indents that would indicate he'd been walking barefoot. Either, he was really lucky last night and the hours had softened his feet back out, or, he really had been dreaming.

Damian wasn't next to him, and since there was a pillow beneath his head he didn't know what to think.

The kid, when he got up, was attempting to make cereal for himself, the milk overflowing in a little waterfall Damian was certainly never going to clean up. The urge was there, as Jason mopped up most of the spill, to ask Damian if Jason had been there when he got in. But, cowardly as he was, and honestly still hoping he was wrong, he kept his mouth shut and continued to tell Damian about his night of fruitless searching for Dick.

They spent Thursday packing, Jason telling Damian definitively about his plans to take them to Central City. Damian didn't put up a fuss when Jason said they were bringing Selina along with them. But, when Damian realised leaving would mean leaving Colin, that was when Jason had to start negotiating like he was dealing with a hostage situation. Damian threatened everything from kidnapping to extortion to get Jason to bring Colin with them. It didn't work, Jason having to eventually settle with some kind of weekend arrangement.

"Why can we not just take him? He has no parents. There is no one to miss him," Damian said for the fifth time that night.

"The nuns will miss him. And if I take him, it's technically classed as kidnapping Damian. I can't do that."

"You don't want to you mean."

He was sulking the rest of the night, not even Selina scratching Jason up bringing Damian out of his room.

The week seemed to fly by, and pretty soon, Jason was standing in front of the precinct, a host of camera's at his back and Damian hanging onto his hand. Gordon was good enough to greet him this time, the man not even making Jason wait as he led him through the halls to the interview rooms. It was a second thought to take Damian away, Gordon passing the kid off to one of his underlings as he told Jason he had half an hour of complete privacy before the world started watching them again.

Tim, when Jason got in, looked substantially better compared to the last time he'd seen him. Bearing in mind the last time Tim had been covered in blood that wasn't really much of a stretch to accomplish.

They'd cleaned him up, got him some new clothes. Even a razor since there was no stubble in sight on Tim's cheeks. Maybe he hadn't even started growing facial hair, Jason thought as he took a seat. The kid looked more put together too now Jason was watching for it. He seemed well rested, the dark circles gone and actual colour in his cheeks. He must have had a private cell, otherwise Jason honestly didn't know how he could have gotten any rest in this place.

"How are you?" Jason started with.

Tim shrugged, "I'm about to be tried for murder. How about you? Still housing a demon under your roof."

Yes, technically, but Jason knew Tim meant Dick when he said that. "Dick's gone. I don't know where." He leaned forward, knowing he had to make this clear for his own sake more than Tim's. "But Dick didn't kill your parents Tim. He couldn't have. Even if he was evil he was too drained to do anything."

Tim didn't say anything, just breathed deeply for a few moments, there was something off about his eyes, a glaze there that Jason wanted to focus more on. Yet, his own head was starting to go a bit fuzzy. In a flash, Jason was no longer sitting in a room with Tim. Instead, he was in some kind of bedroom, lying on someone's lap as they stroked his neck.

"What's Father Todd wanting?" he heard, familiar blue eyes staring down at him.

Careful, he thought, gotta be careful. A rumble sounded, his own voice saying, "He's telling me to be careful with you," then the world shifted and Jason was back in the interview room.

Tim seemed more focused too, rubbing between his eyes as he said, "I wanted to say I'm sorry."

"Come again?" He was expecting a tirade on how Jason was going to rot in hell for helping Dick invade his life. An apology was nonexistent on the list of things he certainly didn't expect to hear from Tim.

"It doesn't matter in the long run what I say to you." Tim sat up, shifting so he looked more in charge. It reminded Jason a bit how Bruce sat. "Call it guilt, or, whatever, but, I figure since we have a limited number of hours left I may as well get some kind of retribution for my actions."

Jason felt vastly unprepared, and he knew that was what Tim wanted him to feel just by looking at him. "If you want me to give you mass, I have, like, nothing here."

"No," Tim waved off, "It's not God I want to judge me right now. It's you."

Strange, but Jason was here and, well, he was curious, so he waited while Tim suffered through another glazed episode before the kid was back on form, staring Jason down.

"Guess the first thing to tell you is that I'm sorry. Really. Believe it or not I didn't want things to come to this." Tim sighed, Jason waiting again, pushing back the feelings in his head that were weighing him down. The tiredness that made him want to lean his head down and not wake up for weeks. "My dad. He used to- I know he's probably told you about some of the people he used to, you know, in confession, but, it wasn't always like that. Mom, she doesn't- didn't, care what happened at home so long as she could go out and spend money. They didn't marry for love, they didn't even want me. I just kind of, happened."

Like most families Jason wanted to say. He knew he wasn't born out of love either. If he had been, he liked to think his dad wouldn't have hated him so much.

"And, I don't know, my dad just. Well, he, wasn't exactly fatherly with me," There was a double meaning in that, one Jason wanted to ignore had Tim not been so determined to put it out there. He was daring Jason without speaking to name out loud what exactly Jack had done.

"So, you weren't left out of it after all," Jason surmrised.

"No."

It must have been hell. Jason remembered the fear that came with being used, especially when he was young and didn't understand why someone would want to hurt him in that way.

Tim went on, "And, it was kind of my idea for him to look elsewhere. I told him that he would probably like it more if they weren't ready for it. I'm good at persuading people," Tim said, like he was proud of setting his dad on innocent people.

Jason guessed what came next. "When I came into your school. You didn't come for the services did you?"

"You were a good enough substitute. Black hair, blue eyes, not too broad. Not to mention you were alone. Or, you were meant to be. I thought, if my dad tired of you he'd go after Dick next, or, maybe try both of you at the same time."

"Tim-"

"Don't." Tim huffed, "I was desperate. You were there and it was the only way to get him off my back. I had finals to do."

Jason hunched forward, a groan falling from his lips. Frustration warred within him as Dick's eyes flashed again in front of his eyes. "Not now demon," he hissed, hoping the name would keep Dick away for a while. But, Dick wasn't there. Tim was. He focused back on the kid, "I know I'm meant to be the nice one here, but I hope to God they put you away for a long time. Was it even Dick that killed your parents?"

Tim looked off behind Jason, his eyes glazing again, only this time it was in thought, not whatever else was going on here. "Bruce said I was supposed to say yes. But, he can't really hurt me anymore."

"Bruce?"

"He'd come to free Dick. But, then he saw my photo's, I was keeping an eye on you see? I thought maybe dad could have another go, but, then Bruce promised he could help. He promised he'd make dad stop. I didn't know what he was going to do Jason. I swear. I thought he was just going to call the cops with some new evidence. Plant something. And then I black out and there's blood and a knife and I'm just stabbing them. My hands weren't working and-"

Jason tuned Tim out, another wracking vision blocking his mind for a moment. When he came back, pushing Dick aside again, Tim was still talking, still making excuses. "Bruce? Bruce put you up to this? Why?"

"I- I don't know," Tim said. "He just told me to tell you Dick did it."

Jason wanted to believe him but, the trust between them was gone forever now. "Why did Bruce tell you to frame Dick?"

"I don't know," Tim said again. "He didn't say. We didn't really... talk, when he was around."

Jason felt his head beginning to split. This was all too much. He couldn't think. He couldn't get his head around this. Dick had been set up. At least for the Drakes. But then, Jason had already known that. The real new information Jason had was the knowledge Bruce had been up to something. He had intentionally wanted to create a rift between Jason and Dick, whether out of some ulterior plan or just because he felt like it Jason didn't know.

The world shifted around him. The room left, Tim was gone, and Jason found himself writhing, fighting in his own head for some kind of purchase. He was a mess of thoughts, emotions, all of them his but Jason not able to focus on any of them.

He didn't know what was happening. All he did know was that he didn't want to leave. He didn't want to be smothered out again. He fought as hard as he could, for himself, for Damian and Dick. Dick, who he needed to see, to speak to. To know that he really did want to do good because Jason hadn't given up on him. He wouldn't.

He lost, finding himself fading to nothing.

"Barry had said it would be set today," Dick mumbled. "Guess he was right."

"You feel any different?"

Dick shook his head. Jason took a breath, pushing himself up from the mattress to check on the situation outside the room.

It had grown dark, Dick going through three more movies before the world set itself. Jason couldn't see Bruce when he poked his head outside. He couldn't hear him either. Jason retreated back to the bed.

"So, the world's back to normal," He started with.

"Guess so," Dick said. They both looked to the door, "You think they've got him?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those of you confused about the merges between Father Todd and Jason, I want you to know that they're different not because I'm a lazy writer who can't be bothered to look through their own work. More, because they're different people they have different perspectives. While we were reading Father Todd's POV in What Lurks in the Dark we were still reading it through Jason's eyes, so he was filtering out or not grasping some of the things Father Todd did. Same with the other way around. So, while it is different, here, we don't get Jason's filter on things, it's pure Father Todd.
> 
> Anyway, thank you, all of you, for giving this story a chance, I know not all of you thought this would be your kind of story and I'm happy to have found people willing to power through it.   
> For all those comments and kudos' I do appreciate them even if I don't answer them all. If I don't answer them, just know, it's not because I don't read them, it's because I think that, if I reply, sometimes I might give things away I don't want to just yet, or I don't want to look back and be held accountable if I change what I write to what I say I'll write.
> 
> Hope you like the next installment.


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